


OCtober 2019

by DarkxPrince, DarkXPrincess



Category: Code Vein (Video Game), Destiny (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Game of Thrones (TV), Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 11:35:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 25,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21270395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkxPrince/pseuds/DarkxPrince, https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkXPrincess/pseuds/DarkXPrincess
Summary: Quick prompts from OCtober that I posted to tumblr. All of these are my own characters that I created from various games. The series that the prompt takes place in will be in the chapter title. The bulk of these are my SWTOR characters as they inspired me more, but it was still nice to write some of the others as well. Tags added as chapters are added.





	1. Beginnings (Dragon Age: Inquisition)

They had been in Skyhold for a week, slowly gathering what supplies they could in order to start repairs on the ancient fortress. Solumera could already feel the increasing morale of the Inquisition troops. They all knew that what happened at Haven would never happen here, any enemy host would be spotted well in advance. More importantly, they know who their enemy is now, they know that he’s out there and they can plan accordingly. It seemed, for the first time since the Breach had been sealed, everything was falling back into place.

Solumera placed the tent supplies she was carrying on the ground, gently wiping the sweat from her brow. She took several moments to look over the lower courtyard of the keep, dozens of tents being raised as work continues on the other parts of the fortress. Some of those tents held the wounded that were leftover from Haven, yet the bulk of the tents merely held sleeping soldiers. Surprisingly still, some of the tents seem to be taken over by other refugees that Solumera didn’t even realize had been with them. Her eyes nearly passed over Cassandra and Cullen talking, not really think much of it, yet the other woman waved her over.

Cullen excused himself as Solumera walked over, leaving her alone with Cassandra. “They arrive daily from settlements from all over Thedas,” she says indicating the refugees. “It seems that Skyhold is becoming something of a pilgrimage for the faithful.”

“Well,” Solumera mutters, “If it gives them hope.” She’s still not sure what she believes … not that she’s certain of anything anymore. She really hasn’t had the time to properly deal with everything that has happened - hasn’t allowed herself to have that time. Least she get lost in her own thoughts about what had happened.

“_ You _ gave them that hope when you stood against the Elder One - against Corypheus - and returned when all thought you had been lost. _ You _ gave them hope in our darkest hour and led them here to Skyhold. It is because of you that we are standing here, in a place where the Inquisition can grow and become something more than what I had intended it to be.”

Solumera eyed Cassandra wearily, feeling like there was more to all of this. She glanced up towards the entrance of the main keep to find Leliana standing there, a sword resting in her outstretched arms. “The Inquisition needs a proper leader, the one who already has been leading it.”

“Why me?” Solumera says, walking up the stairs towards Leliana.

“It was because of you that the Mages allied with us,” Cassandra says, walking behind Solumera. “It was because of you, and you alone, that we were able to close the Breach. Without you, the Inquisition would not be where it is now.”

Solumera takes the sword from Leliana, taking a moment to admire the snarling dragon head that made up the pommel. “Will they follow a Qunari who doesn’t believe that she’s been saved by divine intervention?”

“Commander!” Cassandra bellows below, and Solumera just now notices the entire Inquisition force gathered below them. “Will they follow!”

Cullen steps forward, “Inquisition, will you follow!” The answering roar is almost deafening in its intensity. “Will you fight!” Cullen continues, “For the Inquisition!” He raises one arm up into the air towards Solumera, “For your Inquisitor!” The troops once again answer with a deafening roar, all raising their arms towards her.

Solumera steps forward, suddenly struck with the urge to say something yet not really sure what. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, still not entirely sure what she should believe about the events that has led her to this moment. Yet one thing was certain now, these people were looking to her for guidance and she couldn’t … wouldn’t fail them again. “We will stand tall!” her voice echoes over the soldiers’ roar, “We will unite and bring peace to this torn land once again!”

Solumera raised her arm, thursting the sword high into the air above her. Now the Inquisition could truly begin to grow … now the Inquisition could truly begin.


	2. Dance (Elder Scrolls: Skyrim)

It was over, it was finally over. Alduin - the world eater and the first of Akatosh’s children - was dead. Charlya had pursued the ancient dragon all the way to Sovngarde and confronted him. It was a hard fought battle, pushing even her vampiric strength and endurance to its limits. Yet in the end, he fell just like the dozen of other dragons that Charlya fought during her long journey. Yet something had been different as well when Alduin had finally been killed. Normally the dragon’s soul would have been absorbed into her body, adding to her strength and understanding of Dovahzul, the language of the dragons. Yet Alduin’s soul seemed to have gone right through her and absorbed at the same time. It was the strangest feeling she had ever felt; like there was a part of the ancient dragon within her now, waiting at the far reaches of her soul and as if he wasn’t there at all.

Charlya had conferred with both Paarthurnax and the Greybeards about what had happened, and neither of them truly had any insight. Paarthurnax could only suggest that because Alduin was destined to end the world, he could not be truly killed. Charlya wondered briefly if he would return within her immortal vampiric life, but Paarthurnax had no answer to that and Charlya didn’t bother with the thought any more than that. If Alduin did in fact return while she was still alive - even ages from now - she would deal with it.

As it was, she had returned to Whiterun to the growing cheers of all, Jarl Balgruuf decided to throw a party in her honor. So here they all were, drinking and eating and dancing as if the world was about to end … the irony of that statement not lost on Charlya. Still, Charlya found it hard to celebrate with them. True, the dragon threat may have been taken care of - though Charlya knew there would still be hostile dragons roaming the skies - yet there was still so much to take care of. Looking out over those celebrating, perhaps all of that could wait.

She was brought out of her thoughts as Jenassa walked over, the other Dunmer taking her hand and pulling Charlya out of the shadowed conor she had been in. “Dance with me?” Jenassa whispered, and Charlya couldn’t find it in herself to say no.

They sway silently to the music for several seconds before Jenassa speaks, “I was worried when it appeared you wouldn’t return.”

Charlya quietly chuckled, “Surely you, of all people, should know I’m harder to kill than that.”

Jenassa rested her forehead against Charlya, “I know and still I worried, and it gave me time to think of our time together.” Jenassa paused, either to collect her thoughts or hesitant to continue was hard to say. “I came to realize that somewhere along our travels … you stopped being just another client and started being something more.”

“Jenassa, I …” Charlya began to say.

“Let me finish,” Jenassa interrupted. “The life of a mercenary has been a difficult one, yet I have found something I never thought I would.” The other Dunmer woman took a deep breath before continuing, “I love you Charlya, and would be honored if you would allow me to remain by your side.”

Time slowed as the two Dunmer women leaned closer, their lips just a breath apart …

“STORMCLOAKS!” Someone screamed, followed shortly by an explosion.

Other fireballs rained from the sky, sending the civilians running for Dragonsreach. Charlya and Jenassa jumped apart from each other, both women running to the battlements. Just one day … the damn Stormcloaks couldn’t wait just one day before they decided to resume the idiotic civil war. Anger burned bright in Charlya’s glowing golden eyes even as she raised the facemask of her Nightingale armor. Far within the depths of her soul, a black dragon screamed in rage, telling her to kill them all. As Charlya drew her Nightingale blade, she couldn’t find it in herself to disagree.


	3. Feast (Dragon Age Inquisition)

_ “...Inquisition did not cause this threat! We informed the summit of the danger—” _

_ “The danger posed by Qunari spies inside your organization!” _

_ “Without our organization, none of us would be here to complain.” _

_ “No one has forgotten what you have done. But Corypheus is two years dead!” _

_ “If the Inquisition is to continue, it must do so as a legitimate organization, not a glorified mercenary band.” _

The voices were muffled yet still echoed throughout the hall as Solumera stalked forward, uncaring of anything else. She blew past the guards at the entrance to the council chambers, the doors banged loudly as she kicked them open. “ENOUGH!” Her voice cuts through the hall like her greatsword through an enemy. She stormed to the foot of the raised dais where the Exalted Council sit, uncaring of the gasps of the other civilians gathered. Whether they were surprised she was still in full armor or at the fact that her left arm was gone below the elbow, Solumera neither knew nor cared.

“You all know what this is.” Solumera states, holding the ancient tome which bore the Inquisition symbol and turned to address all those gathered. “The Divine Writ of Justinia to form the Inquisition.” Solumera turned her attention back to the Exalted Council, glaring at all those who sat there. “We were founded to close the Breach and bring peace back to Thedas.” Which was true, it was how the Inquisition had been started … but it had grown into something so much more.

People from all over Thedas had journeyed to Skyhold to pledge their loyalty to their cause. People like Sera … like Dorian … like Varric … like Vivienne … like Cole and all those who Solumera considered a close and dear friend. She had even found love in the long journey that was the Inquisition. While yes, falling in love with the only other Qunari within the Inquisition made for a bad romance novel … Iron Bull made her happy and she felt right and whole when with him. Solumera hoped that she wasn’t falling prey to the same power and egotistical madness that other rulers were prone to fall to … but without her the Inquisition would not have been able to do what it had done under her leadership.

“And we will continue to seek peace throughout all of Thedas …” Solumera threw the tome upon the ground, as if it was a bad novel. “Yet we will serve no one.” She allowed that to sink in for several seconds before continuing. “Yes, we were betrayed and lied to and we have made mistakes, yet you would all have us bow to your agendas. I will not allow that to happen.”

“How dare you …” Arl Teagen, the representative of Ferelden, started to say.

Solumera talked over him without a second thought, “You would have us disband because you fear what our military could do to you.” She turned her glare to Duke Montfort, the representative of Orlais, “And we will certainly not be another chess piece to an Empress who is only alive because we saved her.” She turned her attention to the final representative, Divine Victoria - a Reverend Mother from the Chantry that Solumera had never met before and whom Solumera was fairly certain had been one of the many who claimed that the  _ blessed Herald of Andraste couldn’t possibly be a Qunari savage _ . “And the Chantry would have us serve when they denounced us in the past.”

Solumera only felt slightly bad about turning her back on the Chantry. After all, without Divine Justinia there wouldn’t be an Inquisition. Still, Solumera would not serve a religion that she did not believe in. And she certainly would not submit to those who had constantly turned their back on them when the Inquisition had first been formed. “You all, in one way or another, want to feast on the power the Inquisition can bring you. The Inquisition will stand apart from all, and will serve no banners but our own.”

With that, Solumera turned on her heel and left the council chambers, uncaring of the reactions from any who were left within.


	4. Nature (Dragon Age Inquisition)

Ellana had always found it peaceful, surrounded by wildlife … and no, it was not simply because she was Dalish. It was the … isolation, it was being apart from everything and merely allowing oneself to get lost. If there was ever a time to be alone, it was now. She needed to be alone … alone with her thoughts … and alone with those not her thoughts. She closed her eyes, and breathed deep, concentrating on nothing but the sounds around her. The waterfall in the distance. Listening to it crash onto the surface of the lake. The lake’s water gently lapping at the shore. Small animals rustling through the underbrush.

“ _ Vir Mythal’enaste. _ ”

No. Don’t think about it. Don’t concentrate on the whispers at the back of her mind. She needed to understand, yes. But if she let herself get too absorbed within the thoughts and knowledge whispering to her then she could very much lose herself. She didn’t regret drinking from the Well of Sorrows - how could anyone but her become the vessel for all of that knowledge? While true there were few options that she had at the time, she couldn’t let any one not elvhen take it. Solas had outright refused to drink from the Well, and Morrigan made no attempt to hide the fact she had wanted it for herself. So here she was, with centuries worth of knowledge beating against her mind trying to show her thousands of different things at once.

She needed to center herself again before the thoughts of the ancient elvhenan overwhelmed her. Breathe in … breathe out. Listen to the waterfall. Concentrate on the roar as it crashes onto the surface of the lake. Feel the wind gently brush against her skin. To the leaves sway as the wind moves them. To the silent footfalls as someone moves through the grass. “Why did you do it, vhenan?”

“Do what, Solas?” Ellana whispered, neither opening her eyes nor turning to face him. She breathed deeply again, trying to center herself.

“Why did you drink from the Well of Sorrows? Why did you bind yourself to an ancient elvhenan god?” He demanded.

“And what would you have me do? Let Morrigan use the Well for her own selfish gains? Let it be destroyed and lose all of this ancient knowledge?” She replied calmly. Couldn’t he understand what it had meant to her? There was so much that they could learn from it. So much knowledge that she could teach the Dalish. Perhaps they could finally reclaim just a little bit of what they had lost.

“Then what would you do with the power of the Well once Corypheus is defeated?” He inquired, and by how close his voice was, Ellana knew he was standing right next to her.

“I would use to it teach about all that we had lost,” she took another long moment before she added, “Perhaps even using it to go back to how it was.”

Solas was quiet after that, perhaps lost in his own thoughts. Now that she had said it, did she truly want the ancient Elvhenan empire to be restored? She wasn’t entirely sure. But was she content to merely continue the traditions of the Dalish when she knew there was much they didn’t know? There was a time when that was all that she had known, yet even as a child she had been curious. It was that drive that compelled her to learn everything that she could. She wanted to learn and understand, then she could decide what she wanted to do.

“You are truly different,” Solas muttered, “And you deserve to know the truth of the vallaslin.”

“And what is that?” Ellana said, finally turning to face him.

Solas closed his eyes, as if it pained him a great deal to say, “They were slave markings, meant to show who belonged to which of the ancient elvhenan gods.”

Ellana closed her own eyes, lightly tracing the vallaslin which covered her face - tracing the symbol belonging to Mythal. “So it’s something else the Dalish got wrong? Is that what we truly are? Shadows clinging to a time when we were no better than Tevinter?”

Solas gently placed his hands upon her shoulders, his voice low, “I tell you this not to cause pain, but because you should be more than what those cruel marks mean.” He was silent for a few moments before he said, “If you would like, I know a spell that can remove the vallaslin.” Ellana could only nod her consent. Solas hovered his palms over her face, muttering the spell beneath his breath and Ellana could feel the magic wash over her. Once she felt the spell end, she stared up into Solas’ smiling face, “Ar lasa mala revas, and you are beautiful.”

She threw her arms around his neck, crashing their lips together in a desperate kiss. Everything that she had known had been thrown out the window and she needed to feel. Needed to know at least one thing was real. Needed to know that at least one thing was right and true. All she knew, at this moment, was that she loved Solas and that he loved her in return.

Solas jerked away as if burned, taking a step away from her. “We should not have done that. I should not have encouraged this. I am distracting you from your duty.” She took a step towards him, yet he continued to back away. “In another world perhaps, but … I can’t. I’m sorry.”

Sudden and raw anger overwhelmed her. The world around her and everything she thought she knew about it shattered. “Tell me this wasn’t real!” She demanded, shoving him backwards. “Tell me you don’t care so I can call you a cold-hearted bastard!”

“I can’t … ir abelas, ma vhenan,” Solas whispered, turning and walking away.

Ellana collapsed to her knees at the water’s edge. She stared down at her now bare face, not recognizing the woman who stared back at her. How long she sat there she could not say, but remain there she did … alone … with all of her thoughts.

“ _ Vir Mythal’enaste. _ ”


	5. Lost (Star Wars: The Old Republic)

He was dead, there was no question anymore. The emperor was truly dead. Or, as dead as she could tell. Varilia could no longer feel Vitiate through the Force. Whether that meant he was actually dead or simply too weak to do anything … Varilia could only guess. Either way, he was dead enough for the rest of the Empire. She was no longer surprised by the fact that the members of the Dark Council grabbed as much power as they could. After it was all said and done, Varilia wasn’t sure of her place within the Empire any longer.

She had been the Emperor's Wrath, answerable only to him. Without him, what was she? She supposed she could simply be the Empire’s Wrath now. After all, even though she had served the Will of the Emperor, she still acted with the empire’s interest in mind. Then that posed the question of who would she serve? Would she be at the beck and call of whichever council member wrestled the mantle of emperor? She clenched her fist at the thought of serving someone weaker than her. There were few - if any - Sith powerful to truly be deserving of the title of Emperor.

She could, of course, take the mantle of emperor for herself. Yet even as she thought of it, she knew she didn’t want it. As much as she detested serving someone weaker than herself, she knew she was no leader. She was a weapon to be wielded against the enemies of the empire, and that was how she would serve the empire. It didn’t matter to her if it was against the Republic or against this new threat that revealed itself. Varilia would fight and kill them all for daring to stand against the might of the Empire.

“Master?” Koliarria, the captain of her Honor Guard, spoke from the doorway. The female Cathar stood with her hands clasped behind her back.

It was the strangest thing, having an Honor Guard. Varilia never really thought she would have her own powerbase. Then again, she really shouldn’t have been surprised that she had amassed her own followers. It was, after all, the Sith way to find the strongest - learn under them, and then betray and take all of the power for themselves. Not that she had to worry about betrayal from her Honor Guard. They were all fiercely loyal to her and they all knew how strong she was.

“What is it?” Varilia inquired.

“Acina, one of the more powerful Dark Council members, has called a meeting.” Koliarria replied. “She is demanding everyone’s attendance.”

“Demanding?” The barest hint of annoyance bled into her voice. Acina may have been one of the more cunning and ruthless Sith, but even she wouldn’t be this bold. Unless, of course, Acina had something in the works which guaranteed her success.

“Yes, Lord Wrath. Apparently she has an announcement that will change the fate of the Empire.”

“Is that so...” Varilia muttered more to herself than to the Cathar woman. What could Acina possibly be playing at? Unless, Acina was preparing to take the mantle of … That would make sense, then, if that was what Acina was planning. In which case, perhaps this was something that Varilia couldn’t miss. She was, after all, the Emperor’s Wrath, and if someone was to take that mantle … then she would need to see what they were planning.

“Very well, let us see what Acina is playing at.” She followed Koliarria to the Imperial Throne Room, where Acina was waiting.

The other Sith stood at the bottom of the steps leading up to the throne, “I should have known you would be here first, Lord Wrath.”

“What is your game, Acina?” Varilia demanded, crossing her arms over her chest as she moved past Acina. She took her normal position to the right of the throne, her Honor Guard taking their positions as the base of the dias.

Acina ascended the stairs, stopping before the throne, “What should have been done when Zakuul first invaded us. The Empire can no longer survive if we fight amongst ourselves for whatever power we can grab.” Acina sat upon the Imperial Throne, and Varilia restrained herself from forcing the other Sith off it. “The Empire needs one ruler again … and I will be Empress.” Acina looked over at Varilia, “Lend me your support, Lord Wrath, and we can bring glory to the Empire once again.”

As the other members of the Dark Council started to file in, Varilia couldn’t help but think that - perhaps - she wasn’t as lost as she thought she was.


	6. Bitter (Star Wars: The Old Republic)

Kho’reoxia stared at the holoterminal as the list of names scrolled past. She honestly wasn’t really sure why she was looking through the casualty report. She already knew the names she was looking for would already be there. She may not have been on Korriban when it was attacked, but she knew without a doubt that her parents - possibly the entirety of her family had been killed. Then again, perhaps that’s why she was looking through the casualty reports. She needed to know for sure. Or, at least, she needed to know if her sister was dead as well.

Of course, that posed the question of why did she care about her sister. Draleeria had always been the perfect child within their mother’s eye. Draleeria was the lucky one to be born force-sensitive. It was always Draleeria that she was supposed to be more like. It was always Draleeria’s accomplishments that she could never live up to. No matter how much she pushed herself. No matter how many commendations she had achieved - it was never enough for her Sith mother.

Perhaps it had been better that way. Just as Draleeria had been trained to take over their Sith mother’s seat upon the Dark Council; Kho’reoxia had been trained by their Cypher Agent mother to take over the Star Cabal. With both of her mothers dead, the Star Cabal fell to her to lead otherwise it would have all fallen apart. Now with the new threat that was Zakuul, the balance of power shifted drastically. Though now she was unsure if she wanted to lead it the same way that her mother had. Rollishia had always felt that it was best to simply use the Star Cabal to maintain peace between the Empire and the Republic. So should she continue to use it to bring peace between the now three galactic powers?

Kho’reoxia wasn’t really sure anymore. Besides, why shouldn’t the Empire rule the galaxy? What made both the Republic and Zakuul deserving of sharing the galaxy with the Empire? If not for Zakuul invading, her parents would still be alive. Perhaps she had learned more from her Sith mother than she had first thought. Still, Kho’reoxia couldn’t be bothered to be annoyed with herself that she was merely looking for revenge.

_ Lord Draleeria, status MIA. _

The name flashed upon the holo-terminal, almost taunting her with its presence as if the mere sight of her name were once again forcing Kho’reoxia into her sister’s shadow. She thought she was over it all. But apparently she wasn’t. How could she be? All those years coming second only to Draaleria, as if Draaleria was as perfect as everyone claimed. She knew Draaleria fell a time or two, but no one ever saw that. It was always:  _ Come here, darling, brush it off you’ll be fine.  _ But when Kho’reoxia stumbled or tripped, it was always:  _ Watch where you’re going! How are you ever going to lead if you fall over your own two feet. Look at Draaleria, she trips and walks gracefully. You always fall head first. Get out of the dirt and up on your feet. _

Kho’reoxia snarled at the mere thought of her sister. Why did it always come down to this? Why was it still haunting her to this day? Why was she even thinking of her? She should just let it be. Let her sister remain lost or dead and she could  _ finally _ step out of that massive undertow her sister was dragging her along with. She could  _ finally _ show both her mothers that she was better than her sister even without the Force.

Kho’reoxia sighed and leaned back in her chair, already knowing what she was going to do. If her sister was alive, then shouldn’t she try and find her? Why should she care if her sister was alive or dead? Why should she divert some resources to finding her sister who may or may not be alive? Perhaps that was the point, wasn’t it? Draleeria could’ve been the only family that she had left and she should’ve known - one way or another.

Besides, perhaps it was finally time to put the past behind her. For all the failings of her Sith mother, Draleeria had always tried to reach out to her. Draleeria had always tried to be the best sister that she could be. Kho’reoxia was the one who had always pulled away from her. She was the one who allowed all of that bitterness and anger to fester within her.  _ Ugh,  _ why did Draaleria  _ always have to be the bigger person _ ! 

Taking a deep breath, she stood up and walked over to the holo-pad to call her most trusted agents. She would allocate a small amount of the Star Cabal’s resources to try and confirm her sister’s whereabouts. It would be her  _ only and final _ attempt at trying to connect with Draaleria. If this didn’t work, she wouldn’t feel bad--at least she tried. It wasn’t like she had to reach out to her either, just knowing she was safe and keeping her conscience clear was enough for her.


	7. Tender (Game of Thrones)

“You’re tense,” Aryana whispered, placing her hands on the Northern woman’s shoulders.

Jorlyn leaned back in her chair, allowing the Dornish woman to massage her shoulders. “There’s still too much work to be done.” They were getting ready to attend the coronation of Queen Daenarys, which meant making sure that everything was in order. It meant making sure that there were proper presents for the day, making sure that all of their troops would be able to attend.

“I’m sure all of that can wait for a few hours,” The Dornish woman said, leaning close to her ear. “Let me help you relax,” the Dornish woman purred.

Normally Joylyn would not have hesitated to take the Dornish woman up on her offer, and yet that wasn’t what Jorlyn needed at the moment. Jorlyn rose to her feet, turning to face the other woman and placed her hands on the the Dornish woman’s waist. Jorlyn gently guided Aryana towards the bed in the corner, ignoring the playful smirk on the other woman’s face. Let Aryana think what she would, what Jorlyn needed at this moment was not what Aryana was most likely thinking she needed.

Jorlyn pushed the other woman down onto the bed and joined her. Aryana began to lean up to kiss her, put Jorlyn pushed her back down. The Northern woman merely rested her head on the Dornish woman’s chest, holding her close. Jorlyn closed her eyes and breathed deeply, merely enjoying having the other woman in her arms.

“This wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.” Aryana chuckled.

“I know exactly what you had in mind.” Jorlyn responded. 

“And yet we’re just laying here.” Aryana teased.

“This is enough,” Jorlyn said, “This is always just enough.”

Part of Jorlyn wanted to show Aryana that it didn’t always have to be just sex. That being in each other’s presence, just being held, was enough. But she knew it was hard for Aryana, that Aryana had been used and abused for the longest, so for Aryana it was the only way she knew how to show Jorlyn affection and love. 

Aryana wrapped her arms firmly around the Northern woman and Jorlyn could feel her body grow rigid and tense beneath her. Propping herself above Aryana, pressing all her weight into her hands and the mattress, she kissed the Dornish woman’s nose. “Don’t get all sad on me,” she whispered against her lips before kissing her softly. “All I want is  _ you _ , and to be in  _ your  _ arms. Sexual contact is a plus for me, what matters is that look in your eye and the tight hold of your embrace reassuring me that everything is going to be alright.”

She kissed the tears that slid out of Aryana’s eyes. “I’m sorry…” Aryana whispered, a smiling forming on her lips. “I don’t mean to forget…”

“I know, my love. I just want you to understand that I love all of you and everything about you, not just what you can  _ give  _ me but how you make me feel and everything that you do with me. I love you for your mind, for the words that come out of your mouth...not for what you can do with your mouth--though, that is a plus…” 

Jorlyn kissed Aryana again, this time taking her time and letting the Dornish know with every prod of her lips and every touch of her skin that there was much more to love than just the act of making love. When both were breathless, they pulled away at the same time, Jorlyn nuzzling Aryana’s neck. “I love you.”

Aryana wrapped her hand in Jorlyn’s hair and whispered back her affirmation, squeezing the woman tightly against her.


	8. Storm (Star Wars: The Old Republic)

Sharilia knew she should not be out in the rain, but she didn’t really care at the moment. The endless rain of Dromund Kaas was almost soothing in its own way. Even the great peels of lightning was relaxing in its own way. Besides, the rain did wonders to hide the tears which fell from her eyes. After all, she was Sith and could not show weakness. Now, more than ever, did she need to appear strong before her fellow Sith.

It had barely been a week since she had defeated Thanaton and taken his place upon the Dark Council. Sharilia knew enough that all the other members were just looking for any excuse to try and overthrow her or exploit a weakness. She wouldn’t give them that satisfaction. She had worked too hard to be where she was now and she would be damned if she let it be taken from her. So here she was, out in the rain of Dromund Kaas to hide her emotions.

The datapad that she had been reading was somewhere behind her, the soft blue glow of its surface flickering on and off. It couldn’t be true, it simply couldn’t be true. They had promised that they would survive this war. That nothing would happen to either of them. It seemed that the Force was indeed cruel. Just as Sharilia thought she could open up to someone and - perhaps even love - then the galaxy takes that person away from her. Damn the Republic for taking away the one person that she had cared about. And damn the Republic for publicizing the truth behind Rollishia.

How did they even get a full list of of not only the missions she had been part of, but all of the aliases that she had used? The Republic even had a picture of Rollishia. While it was true that Imperial Intelligence and the Dark Council were two separate entities within the Empire - and while she hadn’t been in the position of power before now - Sharilia was fairly certain that all agent information was locked behind layers of encryption. In the end, though, did it really matter how the Republic got the information? The damage had already been done. The report that stated that Cypher Nine - Rollishia - had been killed in action when a building had been bombed by a terrorist organization the agent had been tracking down.

Anger burned bright and hot through Sharilia, coursing through her veins. Anger was familiar, anger could be used, anger she could deal with. The other emotions that were swirling around inside of her was a different story. For so long the anger which burned within her was all that had kept her going, there had been little room for anything else. If she didn’t think about the other emotions slowing coming to the surface then she didn’t have to deal with them. Anger had been all that she had needed in the past and it would continue to serve her now. Anger could be directed against those who would dare take from her. She would find and make those responsible for Rollishia’s death pay for what they had done. 

The instructors within the Sith Academy always said that there was a storm within the Inquisitors. No truer words had ever been spoken about her. Perhaps it was her natural strength within the Force … or perhaps it was because of the Force Spectors that she had bond to herself, but there were few Sith that lightning came to as easily as it came to her. She could feel it now, reacting to her growing anger and burning so hot that it crackled. She could feel the grief simmering below it all, yet she forced it to the farthest corner of her heart. Grief would not help her now, only her anger could give her the strength she needed.

Sharilia screamed at the raging storm above her, the Force exploding out of her. Lightning shot up into the sky, dancing across the clouds. She drew in the wild Force energies around her, letting it churn within her. She snarled even as the Force continued to ebb and flow through her. There was a time and place for her to unleash her anger. She used the Force to draw the natural lightning to her, feeling the raw power surge through her. She would show the Republic just how strong of a storm she could summon. They would pay for what they had done to Rollishia, that was a promise.


	9. Study (Star Wars: The Old Republic)

When Koliaria joined the Sith Academy, she had never expected that she would be apprenticed to one of the strongest Sith. Nor had she expected to hold such a high position within the Empire. Not because she wasn’t strong enough, she wouldn’t be holding the position that she has if she was weak. But merely because she had felt like her views never truly fit in with the rest of the empire. Not that she had ever outwardly expressed her beliefs, she did - after all - have to fit in with everyone.

Still, she had never been cruel or ambitious like the other Sith, instead when she thought about her rise to power she thought it would be a pipe dream, not one that would actually be in her favor. In the past she always felt a little guilty, whenever she was given a task. If nothing else, she had to pretend that she was like the other Sith - had to pretend that she was ruthless and cruel when the truth was the exact opposite. She held compassion and actually cared about others, regardless of what species they were. Causing needless harm to those who didn’t deserve it was always something she frowned upon. Koliaria ideally wondered if she would have made a better Jedi than a Sith, but at the same time she wondered if she could make a change in the Sith, even if they only gained an ounce of reason instead of the compassion she had. Maybe they would actually ask questions before they murdered, instead going in blind and coming out covered in blood.

Because of her Light Sided views, she had gone through her time with her head down and trying to avoid as much attention from the higher up Sith. So it was a great surprise when Varilia - the Emperor’s Wrath - came to her and offered to take her as an apprentice. The two of them could not be any more opposite than black and white. Varilia was ruthless, perhaps one of the most ruthless Sith and second only to the Emperor. Koliaria suspected that was one of the many reasons why the Pureblood woman was named the Wrath. However, the strength that Varilia commanded was unlike anything that Koliaria had seen other Sith use. True, there were plenty of Sith who dual-wielded lightsabers, but Varilia used hers with the same brutal and ruthlessness that dictated much of her actions.

Koliaria found that she had learned much studying under the Emperor’s Wrath, even if she didn’t use some of the more cruel techniques. Of course, Koliaria had to adjust some of the techniques for her one-handed style. Not that that had been truly difficult, she wouldn’t be where she was today if she wasn’t able to quickly adapt. Under the Wrath’s teaching, Koliaria’s strength and power felt like it had doubled within such a short time - and before she knew it, she was being granted the title of Captain of the Wrath’s Honor Guard.

It had seemed at first that Koliaria would have to be even more careful about revealing her more light sided tendencies. Yet it appeared, for all intents and purposes, that so long as it was not a direct contradiction to Varilia’s orders, the Pureblood woman didn’t really care. Perhaps with this new position she could finally and truly make a difference within the Empire that she had always wanted. After all, being Captain of the Wrath’s Honor Guard meant that Koliaria was only answerable to Varilia herself. 

But still the question remained: why did Varilia choose her of all other Sith? How did Varilia know she could really trust her? Did Varilia know more about her than she originally thought? Or did Varilia truly only care about how strong she was? 

Part of her wanted to ask Varilia why her but the other part of her didn’t want to know. She could just do her assignments in silence. But what if Varilia wanted her to murder in cold blood? What if she couldn’t get more information than a target’s name? Koliaria stared down at the Cathar Honor Sword held within her hands, it had been a gift from her parents before she had been taken to the Sith Academy. She knew she had to make them proud. 

Sighing, she did what her heart told her to do and began the long walk to the throne room. She would question Varilia before her common sense kicked in and forced her to do otherwise. Before she was close to the Throne room, her second-in-command approached her with a datapad. “Captain, there’s an urgent message from a Darth Acina, demanding everyone’s attendance to an announcement she is going to make.”

Koliaria sighed quietly to herself, taking the datapad and glancing through it. ‘ _ It will change the fate of the Empire’ _ ? What did Acina mean by that? Whatever it was, Varilia needed to be made aware of this immediately. “Do you know where Lord Wrath is?”

“I believe she’s in her personal quarters,” her second-in-command answered.

“Very well, I will bring this to Lord Wrath myself. Gather everyone and meet us there.” Koliaria ordered. Her second-in-command saluted and bowed, leaving to carry out her orders.

Koliaria took a deep breath and headed for Varilia’s personal quarters, it seemed confronting Varilia would have to wait. Perhaps this was for the best. Perhaps she could wait and see how the Empire would change after this. Perhaps it was best not to rush into any confrontations. Perhaps she just needed more time to study everything and see what she could do to change the Empire from her new position.

Yes, Koliaria decided as she took a moment outside of Varilia’s quarters. That was the best thing to do for now.


	10. Memes (Star Wars: The Old Republic)

Varilia wasn’t really sure what she had expected to find when she entered her personal starship, yet part of her really wasn’t surprised either. The fact that Quinn was lecturing Vette about proper Imperial protocols had become such a regular occurrence that it didn’t feel like a proper day without it. And, as always, Vette was either ignoring him - as she always did when he was trying to give her a lecture - or responding with one of her sarcastic remarks. If Varilia was anyone else, she may have smiled at the nearly daily exchange. Varilia was just about to relax on the couch within the communal area of the ship when their voices drifted over to her.

“This is, as always, highly unprofessional, Vette.” Quinn said, his voice stiff and as formal as his military training.

“Oh lighten up, Captain No Fun, it’s just a harmless joke,” Vette responded.

“This is still a military vessel, and there are standards that we must follow,” Quinn continued to lecture.

“Nag nag nag nag nag nag, I’ve heard this all before. Maybe you should learn to take a joke,” the Twi’lek woman sniped back.

“These outrageous pictures being posted to the holonet are hardly a joke, Vette!” Quinn sputtered.

“What pictures?” Varilia demanded before Vette could say anything else. Their arguing had started to cause a headache and Varilia just got back from a battle. Part of her didn’t really want to deal with their antics. Yet the other part of her was actually rather curious about what Vette had done this time.

“Allow me to deal with this minor inconvenience, my lord. You need not concern yourself.” Quinn addressed her, sliding into parade rest.

“Oh frak off, Quinn,” Vette butted in, “She wouldn’t have asked if she didn’t want to know.”

“She’s right, Quinn.” Varilia agreed, crossing her arms over her chest. “Now, don’t make me ask again.”

“Very well, my lord.” Quinn said with all the formal training that he constantly fell back to. He handed her a datapad—dozens of images were on display—and Varilia took a few moments to look through them.

One of the pictures had Quinn’s face clearly edited onto it, the image itself of a person with one of their hands raised beneath what could have been a butterfly. The text ‘ _ Imperial Handbook’ _ was placed over the butterfly and the words ‘ _ Is this fun? _ ’ were on the bottom of the image. Another was simply a picture of Quinn with the words ‘ _ Living proof if you make that face, it can get stuck that way _ .’ There were plenty of other such images, all of them either had Quinn’s face edited onto them, or an actual picture of him and all with text saying something.

_ “Memes,” _ Varilia thought, knowing what they were simply because Vette had shown her other such images before. She kept her face as impassive as she could, glancing between Quinn and Vette. Quinn remained at parade rest, utterly confident that she would take his side. The Twi’lek woman was shifting from foot to foot, clearly expecting some form of rebuttal. In all honesty she didn’t really care that they were about Quinn, and part of her actually found many of the images funny. Still, she had an image to maintain, and yet she could still feel her mouth twitch towards smirking.

“Explain yourself, Vette.” Varilia said, keeping her voice as straight as possible, though if one listened closely they could almost hear the humor creeping into it.

“I … well …” Vette stumbled over her words. “Honestly I thought the starship could use some lightening up, instead of being … you know, all dark and gloomy and Sith-y.” The Twi’lek woman took a moment to gather her confidence before continuing, “Besides, it’s not like I’m the only making these things.”

“Even so, Vette,” Quinn said before Varilia could respond, “We are in service to a Lord of the Sith and there is a certain amount of discipline and order we must maintain and adhere to.”

This time, Varilia really almost did smirk when Vette rolled her eyes at the human man. “Return to your post, captain.”

“My lord?” Quinn asked, clearly not expecting to be dismissed.

“I said return to your post, captain.” Varilia snapped. Quinn saluted and left for the cockpit, leaving her alone with Vette. The Pureblood woman regarded Vette before handing the datapad back, “Make sure to send those to my private terminal.”

Vette’s smile was infectious as the Twi’lek pulled her into a hug, “I knew you weren’t all death and murder.”

Varilia actually let out a low chuckle as Vette headed for her own quarters. She may never outwardly admit it, but she found all the images hilarious. As she sat before her holo terminal within her personal quarters, Varilia found herself scrolling through other such memes and chuckling to herself. If nothing else, it was nice to distract herself from the recent events that her life took - if only for a few moments.


	11. City (Star Wars: The Old Republic)

It felt nice being back in the capital, Xariah thought to herself. It had been several months since she had been here; several months since Imperial Intelligence had sent her out on a training mission. Being out here was better than the solitude she had been in the past few years...the city held a different kind of solitude for her: the ability to be around a lot of people but still be able to keep to herself and blend in. It was probably the same reason why Intelligence trained her as an Operative, she - after all - was just another human within the crowd.

At least that’s how it looked on the outside. On the inside she was buzzing with the latest cyborg technology: location trackers, facial recognition and biometrics trackers. She knew where she was at all times and how to get to where she needed to go. She could recognize everyone on the streets and had access to all vital information. She always knew whenever her health was low, when she needed to fuel up, and when she needed to rest. By the looks of her, though, no one would ever know. 

She took a moment to stare out at the capitol building, the three spires which showcased the three ruling orders within the Empire rising high into the sky. The spire on the left was reserved for the Mandalorian clans still allied with the Empire, though rumor had it that the new Mandalore may break their ties. The spire on the right was the one reserved for all of Imperial Intelligence, the one that she should be heading to to report in to her superiors. The center spire, and the largest of the three, was reserved for all Sith and where the Dark Council resided when they were on the capitol.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” A new voice said beside her, breaking her from her thoughts.

Xariah turned her attention to the newcomer, her cyber implants taking in every detail. The first thing that she noticed, was that the other person was nonhuman - a Cathar, to be exact - and the second thing that she noticed was that the person was female. The female Cathar was lightly armored, and Xariah found her eyes wandering over the exposed dark grey skin that could almost be called fur. Even so, the style of the armor was recognizable as something a Sith would wear. When Xariah glanced down at the other woman’s waist, she saw no lightsaber hanging there like she would have expected. It was then that she noticed the vibro-sword which was sheathed upon the Cathar’s back. That was certainly an interesting choice of weaponry if the other woman was indeed a Sith.

“It...sure is,” Xariah responded as impassively as she possibly could, while waiting for the data on the woman to load.

“Which one are you heading for?” The other woman inquired.

Xariah took several moments to consider, her implants having not found any relevant data on the woman. Which either meant that her database was outdated and she needed to resync it with Imperial Intelligence, or the Cathar woman was a fresh arrival to Dromund Kaas. Either way, she wasn’t one to feel like she needed to keep a secret, if anyone wanted her killed they would have ample opportunity to do it wherever she went. 

“Imperial Intelligence. What about you?” Though she wasn’t one for small talk, she wanted to know more about the Cathar woman who wasn’t registering in her database. 

“Can’t you tell?” The Cathar woman was rather sure of herself, as if her body somehow exuded exactly what she stood for. Xariah was quite certain she was a Sith—only Sith would have that confidence about them—but she wanted the Cathar woman to humor her anyway, so she blatantly stared at her as if she truly had no clue. “I am heading to Central.” 

“Sith or Dark Council?” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them from spewing and she wasn’t sure whether she should be glad or concerned that the other woman was laughing.

“Do you not know who I am?” The woman asked, almost incredulously. 

Xariah shook her head. Normally, yes, she would know everything about this woman but for some damned reason that could only be her luck, the database was failing her today. As embarrassed as she was feeling, she couldn’t say it aloud.

“I am Lord Varilia’s newest apprentice,” The Cathar said.

As if the name was a key, information flooded her mind and her eyes widened in shock.  _ Lord Varilia, the Emperor's Wrath _ . That … may actually explain why the Cathar woman was surprised someone hadn’t recognized her. It also explained why the other woman wasn’t already in her database, depending on when the Cathar woman gained her apprenticeship, Xariah was probably still on her training mission.

The Cathar woman chuckled, “I must be on my way, our Lord Wrath is not known for her patience.” The other woman started to walk away, calling over her shoulder as she went, “Perhaps we will see each other again.”

Xariah watched the Cathar woman walk away, not really sure what to make of the encounter. While she hadn’t had many interactions with Sith in the past, she knew all the stories. Almost every Sith was self-centered, ruthless, and beyond cruel to all - even to each other. Yet the conversation with the Cathar woman was pleasant, almost friendly and it was a direct contradict to what a Sith should be.

As Xariah walked into the Imperial Intelligence headquarters, she decided that she needed to resync her database with the most current information. Xariah smiled to herself, indeed when next they meet, Xariah would be prepared, and she was looking forward to meeting the mysterious Cathar woman somewhere within the city of Dromund Kaas.


	12. Obsess (Game of Thrones)

Jorlyn took a deep, calming breath as she looked over the infiltration plans. She was going to pay back the bastards who burned Aryana’s kingdom to the ground and they were going to rue the day they were all born. She’d been waiting and preparing for this day for the longest time. Night after night, after Aryana was in a deep sleep, she snuck out of bed and planned in the Maester’s Tower with her most loyal soldiers. House of Valar was going to regret the day they invaded House of Kage.

Yet they didn’t have the sear numbers that Valar had, so a head on fight was doomed from the start. Valar also had numerous other allies to call to their aid, and she - unfortunately - had so few. No, the only way they could hope to win was if they could infiltrate the keep. Winning with such underhanded tactics went against everything her Northern honor dictated, but what other choice did they have? Of course, Aryana would say to just leave the castle and not bother with trying to retake it. Yet Jorlyn could not do that. Aryana had worked so hard to keep Yronwood under her control, especially since it belonged rightfully to her people. But what did Valar care? After all, they brutally murdered her mother in cold blood right before her eyes. While the Dornish woman could let it go, Jorlyn could not.

“What are you doing here?” Jorlyn froze as the tried voice resonated from behind her. She could have sworn Aryana was in a deep enough sleep that she wouldn’t feel her leave the bed.

Jorlyn quickly hid the map of Yronwood castle beneath several other maps before she responded, “Just going over some supply routes for our forces.”

“During the dead hours of the morning…without me?” 

“You were resting, I did not wish to disturb you.” Jorlyn said, turning to face the Dornish woman.

Aryana raised her eyes. “Let me see what you have so far. Now that I’m up, I might as well help.” She reached out to grab the map off the table to study it.

Jorlyn grasped her hand before the other woman could move any of the maps, “It’s fine, Aryana, it can wait.”

“It can wait?” Aryana’s voice was suspicious now. “If it can wait, why are you up here, at this un-godly hour obsessing over supply routes?” 

“It’s … I was …” Jorlyn stumbled over her words, trying to think of something to say to get Aryana to return to bed.

Not having any of her ramblings, Aryana pushed past Jorlyn who did everything to hold her back, but when angry, the Dornish woman was quite the match. Aryana gazed over the first map, completely blank, not a single thing written on it, nor on the second, nor the third, nor the fourth. Growing angrier by the second—Jorlyn could literally hear her labored, angry breathing—Aryana grabbed the fifth map and cursed aloud. “Are you  _ kidding _ me, Jorlyn?” She growled, turning to face Jorlyn whose face was molten red. 

“It belongs to  _ you _ , and I will do what I must to get it back for you.” Jorlyn snapped, her own anger rising to the surface.

Aryana’s grip tightened around the rolled up map in her hand. “It  _ belonged _ to me. It’s in the past now, Jorlyn! What more can I lose?! They have taken my mother’s life, my troops,  _ everything _ ! All I have is a handful of the men and women I have brought here to be protected by you and you wish to throw them back into the fires? For what? For more to die? For more disappointments! They have lost their families, their homes...everything! And to lose it all again, to possibly lose their own lives...I will not have it! I don’t want any of it! Tell your men to back down!” Aryana threw the map into the fireplace and pushed past Jorlyn, storming out leaving a trail of fire behind her. 

“Aryana! Wait! Hear me out!” Jorlyn tried to reach out to the other woman, yet the Dornish woman shrugged her hands off.

“No!” the Dornish woman snapped. “How many times must I tell you to let this obsession go!”

“It’s not an obsession!” Jorlyn growled, glaring down at the other woman. “It’s because they took everything from you that they must pay!”

“That is not my way…” Aryana’s voice softened as she looked at the floor. “I am defeated, Jorlyn; there is no more fight left in me now. And to lose you would be the greatest lost, please...Let Yronwood go. There are other castles to be taken.”

With that, Aryana walked out of the room, leaving Jorlyn alone with nothing but her thoughts. Too late did she remember that the map of Yronwood had been thrown into the fireplace and by the time she walked over … there was nothing left but ashes. But could she really just let it go so simply? Perhaps Aryana could not see, but Jorlyn could; it wasn’t just about taking a castle. It was about the honor that Aryana had gained, had achieved despite being a  _ Sand _ and the forces of Valar had taken that away from her.

Jorlyn ran down the stairs after her, “Listen to me, Aryana. Please, just this once! If you don’t like what I have to say, I’ll leave it alone.”

Aryana’s sigh echoed throughout the winding staircase as she turned around, her footsteps echoing as she closed the distance between her and the Northern woman. Jorlyn led her back into the room they were previously in. “This has nothing to do with Yronwood,” she stated, her voice calm and her tone low. “This has to do with  _ you _ . You worked so hard at obtaining Yronwood and taking it from those who wronged you to begin with. It was at Yronwood you made deals with the allies who stand with us now. Yronwood was your achievement, your home. Your honor. You taught them all that a last name meant nothing. You have princes and princesses standing with you because you got Yronwood back. Doesn’t any of that mean anything to you?”

Jorlyn watched the woman’s facial features change from hard to soft as a few tears fell from her eyes. “Of course it means something to me. I just can’t see my troops putting their lives on the line again for Yronwood. Look at all I cost them…”

“You are so oblivious to everything around you...it is your troops who came to me wanting to take back what is rightfully yours. It was them who begged me to stand up here and plan with them. They want to do this for you, for themselves...to get back at Valar for everything they have taken from  _ all of you _ .”

She could see the look in Aryana’s eyes, that knowledge certainly changed everything. The fire that replaced those tears was exactly what Jorlyn knew Aryana was capable of. Yronwood still meant everything to her and Jorlyn would be damned if she allowed Valar to keep it.


	13. Waiting (Star Wars: The Old Republic)

Despite the fact that Rollishia was both a sniper and an agent, there was always a small part of her that hated waiting. Hated the fact that she could not simply act when she had to. She ran her fingers down the three scars over her left eye, and took a deep breath. She needed to remind herself why taking her time and planning for everything was important. Rushing into things causes mistakes and mistakes can cost lives.

It was that thought which kept Rollishia from leaving the command center. There was data she needed to familiarize herself with and agents she needed to get to know on a personal level in order to keep things going smoothly. There was so much to go over, Rollishia understood why it had been run by a council and not just one individual. Either way, Rollishia would just have to make it work if she was going to take over the Star Cabal.

Perhaps it had not been the smartest thing that she could have done … it certainly had not been what her orders had been. But what else could she have done? She couldn’t trust Imperial Intelligence, not after what they had done to her brain. And she certainly would never trust the Republic, more so now since their spy cell had abused her by brainwashing her. Since she could trust neither the Empire nor the Republic with the Star Cabal, there had really only been one thing she could do: she erased all records of herself from the known galaxy. Rollishia - Cypher Nine - ceased to exist and she was, for all intents and purposes, a ghost.

Now, of course, she was left with what to do with the Star Cabal. Her belief and trust in the Empire had been shaken and she had never been a supporter of the Republic. Even so, could she use the Star Cabal to make the Empire win their war? Of course she could. If she wanted to she could even have the Republic win the war instead. If she had been a power hungry Sith, Rollishia had no doubt that she could rule the galaxy from the shadows and shape events to how she wished. Yet, ultimately, that had been the downfall of the previous leaders of the Star Cabal. They had been arrogant enough to believe that no one could ever find them and kill them. She would not make that same mistake.

She had no desire to rule the galaxy from the shadows. Nor did she really care enough--anymore--about either side winning the war. In the end, that really only left her with one option: leading the Star Cabal. She would use it, instead, to keep the peace between the fractions, to keep a balance within the galaxy. She would neither support nor aid either side, and instead make it so that both sides could co-exist. It was with that goal in mind that she remained with the command center of the Star Cabal, going over lists of agents and operations. If she was going to lead the Star Cabal in a new direction, she needed to know if there were changes she had to make.

Her gaze swept over to one of the many display screens, where recent footage of a battle was playing. Upon the screen, Sharilia - a new member of the Dark Council - was tearing through Republic troopers with Force Lightning. Pure rage burned bright in the Zabrak Sith’s eyes and face, and Rollishia’s heart tore knowing that she was responsible for the other woman’s pain. Faking her own death so that she could track down the Star Cabal may have been a rash decision, but was there really anything else that she could have done?

The Star Cabal would have been able to see through any other ploy and there had simply been no time to think things through. It went against all of her training, yet she could not simply wait for the perfect opportunity. There was no time to wait and figure out what the best course of action was. She had to act, otherwise the Star Cabal would have gone even deeper underground and she may have lost their trail.

Her heart ached to return to the other woman’s side and reveal everything … but she couldn’t. It wasn’t time and no matter how much her heart told her to forget her training, she couldn’t leave until it was time. She had to make sure that everything was set with the Star Cabal, she couldn’t afford to make any mistakes now. While she may not have been able to return the Sith woman’s side, she could certainly use the Star Cabal to make sure that Sharilia was safe.

“I’m sorry, Shar, I hope you’ll be able to forgive me for what I have done.” With that, Rollishia returned to the other reports from the various other Star Cabal agents, she had orders to give. She would return to Sharilia’s side...she just had to wait a little bit longer.


	14. Play (Elder Scrolls: Skyrim)

Charlya wasn’t entirely sure when playing in the afternoon with her daughters became the normal thing … but she wouldn’t complain. Besides, she was gone on journeys so often and for so long she had started to take what time she could spend with her family when she could. And if that meant pretending to be beaten by her two daughters when they played with their wooden swords, or pretending to not know where they are hiding even though her vampiric senses knew … then that was what she would do. 

As they hid throughout the house, she put on a show of “Where are they? Jenassa have you seen them?” Which always resulted in one of the girls laughing from a nearby corner. Mouthing “everytime” to Jenassa, Charlya cocked her head toward where Sofie was hiding as if to tell Jenassa to go find them. At first Jenassa declined, motioning to Charlya that she was fine watching them but this time Charlya wouldn’t take no for an answer. She gently pushed the other woman toward Sofie’s hiding spot and went to look for her other daughter. 

Charlya closed her eyes and concentrated on her vampiric senses, listening for heartbeats. She could hear Sofie’s excited heartbeat as Jenassa tickled the young girl and even Jenassa’s much calmer one. Yet she could not hear a third within the house. Charlya frowned to herself, she had told the two girls to remain within the house. Even during the day, the swamp which Windstad Manor resided was still dangerous. Charlya raised the hood of her Nightingale armor as she stepped outside the manor, her golden eyes gazing over the surrounding area.

Normally she would have reached out with her vampiric senses again, yet there was simply too much for her to concentrate on one thing. Which left only one thing that she could use, “ _ Laas … Yah Nir _ .” The dragon shout was barely more than a whisper, ghosting past her lips. Every living being - regardless of how big or small it was - lit up to her eyes. There was the usual small animals and …  _ there _ . Runa was hiding behind a tree a little behind the stable and Charlya let out the breath that she didn’t know she was holding. She was about to head over there when a mass of aura caught her attention on the other side of the hill. It wasn’t as tall as a giant was, yet still too big to be some of the animals which roamed the swamp.

“RUNA! Come here, NOW!” Her voice echoed across the swamp, aided by the power of her Thu’um. If there were intruders out there, she wanted them to know she was here.

“But mom!” Runa’s voice carried over from the stable.

“I said now, Runa! Play is over.” Charlya said, crossing her arms over her chest. As her daughter made her way over, Charlya kept an eye on the mass of aura that she had seen. It was making its way over the hill and towards the manor. Now that she could get a better look at it, she could see several distinct aura masses … all of which at the general height of humans. Because of course she couldn’t go one day without someone bothering her.

A whistling caught her attention before she could say anything and her vampiric reflexes was all that saved the little girl in front of her. Charlya’s hand caught the arrow mid-air and snapped it in two even as Runa’s scream tore through the air. Charlya pushed Runa inside the manor, turning to face were the arrow had come from. Her eyes narrowed and fangs bared in a snarl as several members of the Dawnguard revealed themselves. “I will give you this one warning, leave now and do not trouble us any further,” Charlya snarled.

“You die today, bloodsucker!” One of the Dawnguard members said, drawing his waraxe.

Charlya stepped forward, turning into her Vampire Lord form mid-stride, it seemed that she would get to play after all. She was on them in a swirl of bats, her elongated talons buried deep in the chest of one. She blasted one away with a burst of telekinesis as they tried to bring a warhammer down on her. She grabbed another by their throat and tore a chunk of flesh out of their shoulder, tossing them aside to bleed to death. Another Dawngaurd tried to cast some form of fire magic, yet she simply walked through the flames. Whatever the spell had been may have worked on a weaker vampire, but she was still Dovahkiin and Dunmer - fire could not harm her so easily. She sank her fangs into that one, draining the body of it’s blood within seconds and turned to face the last remaining Dawnguard.

The one she had blasted away with telekinesis, tried to return to their feet, yet Charlya placed her taloned foot upon their chest, pinning them to the ground. “Return to Isran,” Charlya said, her voice deep and gravely. “Tell him if he sends any more, I will return to Fort Dawnguard and kill you all.” She broke one of their arms to reinforce her message and kicked them away. Charlya watched as they retreated through the swamp, making sure that there was no one else before returning to her mortal form.

She hurried back to the manor, Runa crying into Jenassa’s neck as the Dunmer woman held her. Sofie was hiding just behind the door, peeking around the doorway to see what had happened. Charlya wrapped her family in her arms, drawing Sofie against her side when the other girl came over as well. 

“Mama, is everything going to be okay?” Sofie asked.

Charlya took a deep breath. The only way for everything to be okay was if she went to the Dawnguard and ended them once and for all. She hated to leave her family like this, but it was the only choice. She had to protect them. “Yes,” she assured Sofie, as she kissed her forehead, then looked into her wife’s eyes. “Everything is going to be fine.”


	15. Scream (Star Wars: The Old Republic)

“MOM! NO! LET ME STAY! LET ME FIGHT WITH YOU!”

Sharilia did her best to ignore her daughter’s screams as Khem Val dragged her away. She stood at the entrance of the Sith Academy, her eyes closed as she reached out with the Force. She could feel her other crew members with her daughter … could feel them getting away on the starship. Good, at least Draleeria was safe and on her way to rendezvous with Darth Marr and his forces on the edge of known space. Next to her, Rollishia - her wife - was finishing a holo-call with their other daughter. It seemed they both knew how this battle was going to end and they had prepared accordingly.

The enemy forces seemed to have appeared from nowhere, hitting hard and destroying everything in their path. From the few reports they had received over the past few months, this strange new force was hitting both Republic and Empire planets. They had all known it was only a matter of time before they had reached Korriban, and it was here that the Empire would make their stand. The bulk of their forces were gathered, and there were hundreds of Sith ready to fight. Still, part of Sharilia wondered if it was going to be enough.

“This is it, isn’t it?” Sharilia muttered.

Rollishia squeezed her hand, “We’ll make it through this, Shar.”

She wanted to believe her wife, yet she knew that the Chiss woman knew it was a hopeless battle just as she did. Still, Sharilia gave her wife a small smile before returning her attention to the Imperial forces. She gave the signal to the Sith Commander - a female Twi’lek who gave the order to begin the attack. Over head dozens of Fury-class starships zoomed past and opened fire on the enemy as their troops opened fire and Sith charged forward. Sharilia watched as the battle unfolded - watched as the Imperial forces were slowly pushed back by the seemingly infinite number of enemy troopers.

Sharilia strode forward—her wife close behind—and called upon all her power with the Force. She drew on the powers of the Force Spectors that she had bound to her. She felt their power mix and swirl with her own, her eyes glowing deep purple with power. She unleashed her Force Lightning, watched as it crashed into the enemy forces. She was mildly surprised when the enemy troopers  _ short-circuited and exploded _ ? Droids? They were sending droids against them? It did explain why it seemed the enemy appeared to have an infinite number of troops. Rollishia was a little further back, picking off enemies with her sniper rifle even as Sharilia continued to use her lightning.

The battle must have raged on for hours, and still there appeared to be no end in sight. The Imperial forces had been pushed almost to the entrance of the academy, and so few of their troops remained. Sharilia could sense the enemy leaders - how could she not? They blazed in the Force like two massive suns. It wasn’t long before she saw them across the battlefield, carving a path through Imperial Forces. “Twin Conquerors,” the battle reports had called them, and Sharilia could see why. They wore the same armor, one in black and one in white - though the one in white had some sort of mask covering the left side of his face and his left arm was robotic.

Sharilia drew on all of her power and unleashed it in a massive Lightning Storm, yet it did little to deter the enemy. The two leaders continued to stride forward, her lightning bouncing off their Force barriers. Then they were upon her and Rollishia, their golden lightsabers blazing. Out of the corner of her eye, Sharilia saw her wife do her best to dodge the attacks of the one in black. Sharilia did her best against the other, blocking his strikes with her lightsaber and attempted to use her lightning to catch him off guard. Yet Sharilia knew she was no Warrior and would not last much longer. She blasted her opponent away with a burst of Force energy, sending him stumbling back a few inches. It gave her enough time to check how her wife was doing.

Rollishia raised her sniper rifle in an attempt to block an attack - it didn’t help. His golden lightsaber cut through the rifle and deeply through the Chiss woman’s chest. Rollishia crumpled, dead before she even hit the ground. The scream which tore itself from Sharilia’s throat was rage and grief and the Force exploded out of her. Lightning arced off her body and she brought her power to bear on the enemy leaders. She pounded against their Force barriers, yet they remained strong. The leader in white advanced upon her, his robotic hand crushing her wrist. Another scream tore from her throat as she dropped her lightsaber, her power blinking into non-existence.

Sharilia blankly stared down at the lightsaber impaled through her chest, collapsing to the ground. She could feel her life fading away, and knew that the Force Spectors she had bound would not be able to help her. With the last of her strength she urged them to go and protect Draleeria, and wondered if any of them would actually follow her command. As everything around her faded to black, she could have sworn she had heard her daughter one last time, screaming out in anger.


	16. Wild (Code Vein)

Alvira was on her hands and knees, one hand around her own throat as she choked on air. The miasma was thick and it clawed at her lungs threatening to consume her. Her vision blurred and her head pounded. Was this what it felt like to become one of the Lost? Was this how she would finally lose all sense of self and become nothing more than a blood-starved monster? Was this the true danger of the Queen? Simply being corrupted into another mindless beast? After everything that she had been through … after all the times she had died and returned to life … after all the battles she had survived … was this how she was going to end?

Alvira could feel the Queen looming behind her, the miasma so thick around her it was almost visible. Alvira choked again, her hand around her own throat, feeling something within herself burn and change. The Queen had been so much stronger than she had thought … than they had all thought. Had this mission to kill the Queen been destined to fail? Was the Queen simply unkillable? Were they all destined to become corrupted into the mindless Lost? Was that all Revenants would ever be? Trapped in an endless cycle of death and rebirth? Slowly losing their memories and pieces of themselves?

Alvira stared down at her hand, her vision blurry. It couldn’t end this way.  _ She _ couldn’t end this way. She had fought too long and given up too much of herself to die here! She can feel a power surging through her, yet it was wild and uncontrolled. She felt the change - felt how her arm bulged and transformed, felt something cover the lower half of her face that certainly could not be the rebreather that had been shot off. She was on her feet and driving the claw that was her arm into the Queen’s chest with a shout of anger.

The Queen’s azure eyes stared into her own, one of her hands coming up to gently caress her check and Alvira nuzzled it thoughtlessly. The Queen’s lips moved, yet Alvira could not hear anything through the roaring blood pounding through her ears. She could feel something being absorbed from the Queen. Was she draining the Queen’s blood? How was that possible without her fangs to the Queen’s neck? Alvira wrenched her arm back, feeling the claw transform back into her normal arm, the Queen stumbled away, dark blue blood pouring from the wound. The Queen collapsed to the ground, turning to nothing but ash.

Alvira stared blankly at the sight. Was it finally over? Was the Queen finally dead? She wasn’t choking on miasma anymore, but … something still felt wrong. Talking drew her attention to the side, two fellow Revenants stood there gazing at her. She should’ve known who they were...why couldn’t she remember who they were? Hadn’t she just been fighting side by side with them? Had so much of her memory already been lost to her? She reached out to them, hoping that they could help with whatever was happening to her.

That’s when she felt it - it roared in her ears and her blood burned within her. She could feel the tears of blood oozing from her eyes and if she could have seen her own face - she would have seen one of her eyes had turned blue. It almost felt as if a Frenzy was coming over her - that insatiable thirst when a Revenant goes too long without blood.

One of the Revenants raised his hand, a ball of energy forming in his palm. It shot out at her and pierced her chest. Alvira stumbled back with a grasp, her foot slipping on the edge of the cliff and she fell back. 

As she rushed toward the ground, nothing but darkness usurped her, enveloped her, and burned through her. She could feel nothing...not with her hands, not within her. All she could hear was the whooshing wind buzzing past her as she fell into nothingness....or was it the beginning all over again? But no, whatever that Revenant had hit her with, it had pierced through her heart … there was no coming back from that. She could even feel herself turn to ash as she fell … and her world turned to nothingness.


	17. Safety (Game of Thrones)

There were few places were Aryana ever truly felt safe … even fewer still since her mother’s death and Yronwood was taken from her. Even less so, now that she was in the North. She may have sworn allegiance to Jorlyn, but that didn’t stop some of the Northerners from mistreating her. Not that they would ever do so out in the open, especially whenever she was with Jorlyn. She knew she would never fit in anywhere, knew that everyone would mistreat her simply because of the name she was born with. If she closed her eyes she could almost hear the whispers people muttered under their breath when they thought she couldn’t hear them.

Only Jorlyn had ever shown her an ounce of respect - true deep respect. Not the thinly veiled ‘respect’ that most people showed and was easy to see that they were only giving it to you because they wanted something in return. Of course, that was easy to deal with. Aryana had used it to her advantage with some of her negotiations one behalf of Jorlyn when trying to create new alliances. She was Dornish, after all, she wasn’t afraid to use her body to get what she wanted. She was doing it all for Jorlyn, to keep her and everyone else safe. And if she had to spend one meaningless night with someone to get what she needed … then she would do it.

It was all worth it … Jorlyn was worth it. She was more than worth it. Aryana would give her the Iron Throne if she could. It was the least that Jorlyn deserved after everything that she had done for her. Not that the Northern woman really knew just how much she was helping Aryana. Aryana wrapped her arms around herself and gazed into the dancing flames of the fire, almost seeing the nightmare which plagued her dreams. She could see her mother’s body as it burned on the pyre. She could see the dozens of troops dead before the gates of Yronwood. She could even see her city - the city she had taken and earned even though she was nothing but a  _ Sand _ \- burn as it was invaded.

It was only when she was wrapped in Jorlyn’s arms that these nightmares were chased away. That her mind could be at peace and not thinking of millions of things at once. When the voices within her head were quiet and not endlessly talking about all of her failures. In Jorlyn’s arms, she couldn’t hear them talk about how she had failed her mother. About how she had been so concerned about herself that she didn’t take the guard captain’s warnings seriously. Didn’t hear how they mocked her about how she was just a  _ Sand _ and that she would never amount to anything. Didn’t hear them say how Jorlyn would never love her. That she would never be good enough for the Northern woman.

Aryana drew in a ragged breath and forced her thoughts away and down into the deepest parts of her mind. She  _ would not _ think about it -  _ could not  _ \- think about it. Instead, she thought about the feeling of Jorlyn’s arms around her as they slept. Thought of the ease of which the Northern woman chased her demons away. Thought of the warmth and peace which surged throughout her body as they held each other close. Thought of the way Jorlyn thoughtlessly did little things for her that meant the world to her. Thought of the way Jorlyn stood by her and supported her no matter what she did. Thought of the way that the Northern woman defended her.

Arayan felt the smile spread across her face. She may not have the amount of troops that she once had, but there were other ways that she could defend Jorlyn. Jorlyn had always gone out of her way to protect Aryana … now it was her turn to protect the other woman. She didn’t care what she had to do, didn’t care about the lengths at which she had to go. Didn’t completely care what Jorlyn thought about what she was doing and how she was going about it. Aryana knew that the Northern woman would want to defend and protect her  _ honor _ \- it was one of the many things that she loved about Jorlyn. Yet Aryana didn’t care. She didn’t have the same sense of  _ honor _ that the North had. She was  _ Dornish _ and she had more than a steel sword to wield against others.

Her eyes hardened as she gazed into the fire, the fire within her burning just as bright and hot. She had been protected enough … now it was time for her to protect the one she loved. It was time that she take their alliance name to heart … she would be the shadow that protected Jorlyn and she would use everything at her disposal to gain allies, regardless of what was required of her. Jorlyn made her feel safe, and Aryana promised herself she would do everything in her power to keep Jorlyn safe as well.


	18. Childhood (Star Wars: The Old Republic)

_ “Come on, Jehi! Let’s go play outside!” _

_ “Don’t go too far ahead of me Shar!” _

_ “Stop worrying about everything and let’s play!” _

Jehilia did her best not to get too lost in the memories as she stared out at the Odessen wilderness. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t truly get lost in her memories no matter how pleasant they were. It was nice, though, to remember a time when they were free and together. A time when there was nothing on either of their shoulders - no pain, no suffering, no responsibilities to the rest of the galaxy. Just their little home in their small village with their parents playing and laughing with each other and the other children. It had been so peaceful then, so blissful … Jehilia could feel the tears at the corners of her eyes.

If only it could have remained that way. If only the slavers had never come to their homeworld. If only the Republic trooper had not thrown her into the rescue shuttle. If only she had not been brought to the Jedi. If only her sister had not been enslaved. If only her sister had not become one of the strongest Sith Lords. How different their lives would have been? How much happier they would have been? Jehilia would have even been happy to have been enslaved alongside her sister. At least they would have been together. At least she could have been there for her sister. It didn’t matter to her if they both became Sith … at least they would have been together and  _ alive _ .

“There is no emotion, there is peace.” Jehilia muttered the Jedi Code to herself, trying to calm herself. It would not do to get lost in the thousands of possibilities that could have happened. Jehilia had to have faith that the events played out as the Force willed it. It was all she could do now, anyway. It was impossible to have a life with her sister or the remainder of her family.

Five years. Five years have passed since Zakuul invaded. Five years since both Tython and Korriban had been ravaged. Five years since both the Empire and the Republic surrendered to the Eternal Empire. Five years since her sister had been killed in battle. Five years since her niece had disappeared and presumed dead. Yet it still feels like only yesterday Jehilia could reach out through the Force and sense her family’s presence. Sense the raging storm that was her sister and niece. She would never dare to try and touch their Force signatures with her own, afraid of how they would react … now she wished she had.

She wished she could have reached through to her sister when they had crossed paths all those years ago. Wished that she could have been a part of their lives. Had she done all that she could to reach out to them? Should she have persisted instead of giving her sister space to process everything? She had spent so much of her life trying to find her sister after the slavers had attacked their homeworld, had she given up too easily? Had the guilt and sorrow been too much for her to continue to reach out? Now it was all too late … too late to do anything else and all she was left with were her regrets and sorrow.

“Master Jedi.” The voice broke her out of the thoughts and she dared not hope it belonged to who she thought it did.

Jehilia turned, coming face to face with her presumed dead niece. Draleeria stood there, her armor worn and nicked, her shoulders slumped and heavy as if far too much weighed on them. Jehilia reached out with the force, sensing that same storm she would sense all those years ago. Yet … there was something off. “There’s no need for such formalities, Draleeria.” Jehilia wanted to envelop the younger woman in her arms. “We are family, after all.”

Draleeria limped forward, leaning heavily against the railing, wrapping her arms around herself, “I miss her.”

“I miss Shar too,” Jehilia whispered. Perhaps the Force did work in such mysterious ways. “There is nothing I regret more than not being there for the both of you. But I pray that you know I am here for you now, and anything that I can do for you … please, do not hesitate to ask.”

Her niece almost appeared to crumble into herself, and Jehilia could see the tears which fell from the younger woman’s eyes. “Aunt Jehi … I …” The younger woman threw herself in Jehilia’s arms, her body racked with sobs. “I … did something and there was a backlash of Force energies and it …  _ hurts _ .”

Jehilia wrapped her arms around the younger woman, calling upon the healing technique which earned her the title of Barsen’thor. She wasn’t a Sage Healer, but she could do what she could. She reached out through the Force, enshrouding her niece within the healing energies. She couldn’t be there for neither her sister’s nor for her niece’s childhood. Now, though, she could be there whenever her niece needed her. She could finally right the wrongs of the past and make up for her mistakes.


	19. Clean (Star Wars: The Old Republic)

"There is no emotion, there is peace. " Sillania took a deep breath, centering herself within the force.  _ There is no emotion, there is peace. _ She repeated the mantra over and over again: the first line of the Jedi Code. It had been her honor to be a Jedi and earlier that month, she had finally broken away from the Sith Emperor's mind control. For several months he had taken her as his prisoner and had brainwashed her, forced her to do his bidding. At first, she thought there was no coming back, that she was too far gone to be cleansed of the darkness, but being at this for the past seventeen days, it was starting to make a difference.

She could feel the darkness oozing out of her bit by bit and as excruciating as it was, she reminded herself of the peace of the Jedi and pushed through it. Yet how could she be certain that his influence was completely gone? How could she be certain her actions were her own? For so long they hadn't been. Eating, drinking, murdering innocents in cold blood...all of those decisions had been made by him. What if this was just another ploy? What if he were cleansing her just to do it over and over again? Just to use her as a puppet every. single. time. Until he murdered every last person in his way and then he would leave her to rot, half cleansed, half not, with the blood on her hands as a constant reminder of what she had done, not what he made her do because all memory of him would be erased but not the actions and crimes she had committed. 

Far behind her, the creaking door pulled her out of her mantra. Feeling the force presence of her only friend, Jehilia, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. At first she thought the other woman might have wanted to talk, instead the Zabrak woman sat next to her and crossed her legs and began to whisper the same mantra as she had been doing. "There is no emotion. There is peace." Smiling at the other woman to be polite, Sillania fell into the mantra again, this time with a small sense of peace. 

She started to realize, whenever she was around the Zabrak woman she felt at ease, as if the past was really in the past and she was starting to become her Jedi-self again.

"Is that your unease I am feeling?" The Zabrak woman's voice pulled her out of her mantra.

"Is its presence that strong?" Sillania asked, truly wondering who else could feel the unease she was feeling, could feel her uncertainty of everything.

Jehilia turned her body toward her and nodded. "I can help ease it, if you would like." No one had ever offered to help her before and while part of her thought this was still just another trick of the Sith Emperor, part of her wanted to hope that there was someone kind enough to help her. Blocking out any negative thoughts, she nodded her acceptance to Jehilia. "Take my hands," she whispered, holding her hands out toward Sillania who placed her hands into the other woman's without a second thought. "Close your eyes. I have learned a healing technique which can help prevent mind control. No one will ever be able to get into your mind." 

"Will this be permanent?" Sillania's voice was filled with hope and anticipation. This was exactly the kind of healing she needed. She would be able to cleanse herself in peace, knowing her thoughts were truly her own. Knowing her decisions could only be made by her.

The Zabrak woman assured her it was and Sillania could feel her pulling the force, could feel a sense of calm and silence overcome her entire being. She could feel the weight she'd been holding draining itself of her body, but she knew this was only the beginning.

She knew there was a long way to go before she was cleansed, and a long way to go before she would be truly able to rid herself of the crimes she committed under his command and will, but at least there was an after. At least there was the Jedi. At least there was Jehilia, someone who could ground her when she needed it. That was a start to being clean of the past and the pain.


	20. Rival (The Elder Scrolls: Skyrim)

Charlya had never really expected anyone would be able to rival her … not since she had defeated Alduin. After all, who could match against the might of the oldest dragon? Besides, there were few mortals who could stand against her vampiric might--add in the powers of Dovahkiin--and who could ever hope to challenge her now? Not that it ever stopped the foolish who claimed that a  _ filthy Dunmer such as herself  _ could never be the Dragonborn. Those idiots she merely knocked unconscious, and if they still dared to challenge her claim after that … that was their problem.

Not that she had ever truly cared about what people thought about her … not really. She didn’t openly display her vampiric urges more out of self-preservation than anything else. Not that it mattered so much any more. It was basically an open secret, with the citizens of Whiterun - they never talked or mentioned it, but they all knew. To the citizens of Whiterun, it was enough that she was Thane and had saved the city several times over. Sometimes she felt a little bit of hope that other mortals could so easily look past such things. Of course, then she encountered the Stormcloaks again and she lost all of that faith.

“Give up, Ulfric,” Charlya spat at the rebellion’s leader. “You’ve lost.”

If Charlya could ever have a rival … she supposed it would have been Ulfric Stormcloak. Besides the Greybeards and herself, he was the only mortal who could call upon the Thu’um. Yet he had not mastered it like she had. Throughout her travels, Charlya had learned dozens of Dragon Shouts … and she had only ever seen him use one. Not that her first and only other encounter with Ulfric had been in the heat of battle, but from what she had observed, he had not taken the time to search for other Dragon Shouts. He was - after all - far too obsessed with winning the Civil War that he started, and  _ freeing _ the Nords from the  _ tyranny _ of the Thalmor.

“Skyrim belongs to the Nords, and I will never surrender to one such as you!” Ulfric challenged back. And that was why she could never side with the Stormcloak Rebellion. They only cared about their fellow Nords ... they couldn’t care less about the Dunmer, about the Khajit, about the Argonians.

“Then let us end this, Ulfric,” Charlya replied, drawing her Nightingale blade.

Ulfric charged first, his waraxe raised high, and he brought it down upon her. Charlya could have easily blocked it, she could have called upon her magick, she could have unleashed her Thu’um, instead she spun away from his attack. This wasn’t about ending the Rebellion as quickly as possible - not anymore. Besides, Ulfric was the only one left, the rest of his forces were either scattered or dead. This was about proving a point to Ulfric, that it was useless to continue, that it had always been useless.

Charlya couldn’t deny that a small part of her was enjoying drawing this out. The dragon’s blood which coursed through her veins, and her dragon’s soul, relished the battle. It roared from the deepest parts of her soul to prove that she was strongest. To find and challenge all those who would dare rival her and end them all. After all the pain and suffering Ulfric caused with his pointless war, Charlya couldn’t find it within herself to fight against the urge. It was a rare thing for her to give into the vampiric bloodlust, yet she gave into it gladly.

Charlya spun away from his most recent attack, using her own momentum to kick his waraxe from his grasp. In an instant she called upon her Thu’um, “ _ Fus … Ro Da! _ ” The sheer force of the Dragon Shout barreled into Ulfric, sending him flying into a wall. His broken body slid down the wall, and Charlya loomed over him.

“Give me an honorable death, Dragonborn,.” Ulfric pleaded.

Charlya debated allowing him that small honor … and then she remembered the poverty that the Dunmer living in Windhelm … then she remembered that the Argonians were not allowed into the city proper … she remembered all the needless deaths throughout the civil war. Ulfric did not deserve an honorable death, he deserved to suffer for all eternity.

Charlya grabbed him by the throat, and sank her fangs into his neck. It was a simple matter to trap his soul within a black soul gem. She threw the lifeless husk once she had drained it of all blood, turning and striding away. Her dragon soul roared deep within her, knowing there were few who could rival her.


	21. Trick (Star Wars: The Old Republic)

Juunya would admit she was never one for tricks, and those closest to her would attest to that. She was a bounty hunter, and preferred the straight forward approach of tracking down and confronting her targets. She preferred a blaster to the face rather than a knife in the back. While true, most targets would beef up their security when they knew she was coming … but that was part of the fun. Juunya may never go out of her way to terrify a target, but there was something oddly satisfying in seeing the fear on a target’s face when she pointed a blaster at them after going through whatever tried to protect them.

Maybe that was one of the reasons she had gotten along so well with the other Mandalorians after Mandalore had adopted her into the clan. The thrill of battle and the euphoria of coming out victorious sang to her like all Mandalorians. The drive of finding glory pushing her to take more dangerous bounties. So it was with a small amount of disappointment that she listened to Mandalore the Avenger - or as few people knew her by, Shae Vizla.

They were on Darvannis, just out of range of a weapon facility and it’s defenses. They were here for two reasons: one, to raid the facility and take what armaments that they could; and two, to aid the Commander of the Alliance in whatever mission they had. Apparently the Mandalorians would serve as a distraction while the Commander went about sneaking throughout the facility to whatever their objective was. A small part of her was annoyed that the Commander was getting all of the glory, but the other half of her was still looking forward to the fighting.

“Is this really the best option, Shae?” Juunya inquired once everyone else had left.

“I trust your judgement, Juunya, but we need the Alliance’s help just as much as they need ours.” Shae responded.

“Still,” Juunya mumbled, “It’s a waste of our skill to act as a diversion.”

“You and I both know that the clans are weak,” Shae said, leaning against the holo-terminal. “If we tried our usual tactics of throwing bodies at it, we’d be slaughtered.”

Juunya frowned and crossed her arms over her chest, Shae wasn’t wrong about that. She had surveyed the facility’s defenses herself when they had first set up their camp. The shield which covered the facility could withstand an orbital bombardment, the turbolasers situated on the walls could tear through both troops and vehicles, and the almost endless amount of Skytroopers was difficult enough to blast through. All in all, the odds weren’t great … but when had that stopped the Mandalorians from a frontal assault before.

“Besides,” Shae continued, “Once the Commander gets in and disables the defenses, we can get in and take what we need.”

The logic was sound and Juunya couldn’t really bring herself to disagree with it. Still, it was a tactic she would have expected from the Republic or Empire or even spies, not from Mandalorians who thrived on battle. There was no honor in such an underhanded way to achieve victory. Juunya supposed that the thrill of the battle would have to be enough … for now.

“I trust that you’ll follow your orders?” Shae said.

“Don’t worry about that, Shae.” Juunya said, waving the other woman’s concern away. “I’ll follow your orders. Still …” Juunya glanced out of the command tent at where Torian, a member of her crew, was talking with the Alliance Commander. There was something oddly familiar about the Commander, as if Juunya had met her before. “Can we really trust this Alliance to allow us to take what we want?”

“They’d be dumb to not let us,” Shae responded. “Besides, we won’t give them the option of having a say in the matter. Once those defenses are down, our team goes in and takes what they can and the Alliance won’t be any wiser.”

Great, even more underhanded tricks. Juunya stared down at her helmet - the same helmet that Mandalore the Vindicated gave her after she had won the Great Hunt and had been adopted into the clans. She hated all of the tricks, but if the Mandalorian Clans were to thrive, maybe she could deal with it.


	22. Heist (Star Wars: The Old Republic)

It was the score of the century, with impossible odds and danger at every corner … how could Tradrissia turn that down? So when Hylo came to her with the offer, it took her all of a second to agree. It didn’t even matter that she knew nothing about whatever heist Hylo was planning, all Tradrissia had to hear was “more credits than you can imagine.” Nothing else mattered to her in that moment, only the amount of credits she could abscond with. Not that she really needed the credits, she had an Underworld network that was bringing in more credits than she knew what to do with.

If Tradrissia really wanted to, she could retire to a backwater planet and not have to worry about anything for the rest of her life. She wouldn’t do that, of course--the mere thought of lounging around all day was just so dull and boring. If she retired, she knew she wouldn’t last an hour - let alone a day - before she went looking for her next score. She was, after all, a thrill seeker and she’d take the most dangerous jobs without a second thought. Besides, the bigger the danger the bigger the haul...and Tradrissia lived for the thrill of pulling off impossible plans.

And there were certainly no plans as impossible to pull off than robbing the Gilded Star: the treasury ship which housed all of Zakuul’s credits. It was almost a miracle that they knew where the ship was going to be. It not only had stealth technology, but only the highest members of the Knights of Zakuul ever knew where it would be at any given time. Tradrissia didn’t really know - nor did she really care - how Hylo’s contact figured out that the treasury ship was going to be docked at a port on the gas giant Vandin. And that wasn’t even covering the almost ridiculous plan that Gault, Hylo’s contact, had concocted to rob the Gilded Star. Honestly, if Tradrissia wasn’t who she was … she’d have said it was impossible to pull off.

Not that that ever stopped her before. People said it was impossible to track down Nok Drayen’s treasure … she found it. People said it was impossible to stand against the Voidwolf … she stood against him and took over his fleet. Every heist that she had been part of had near impossible odds … and yet, she pulled it off every single time. To top it all off, none of her plans ever went the way they were supposed to and she  _ still _ managed to come out alive - battered and bruised, maybe,  _ but alive _ . She bluffed her way through more dangerous situations before … she still remembered that one time she seduced a Sith Lord on Tatooine. That kiss had been electric - literally - and completely worth the confrontation with the Jedi afterwards.

All in all, she expected this heist to go about as well all the other ones … gone to hell halfway through and plenty of running, cursing, and shooting with a narrow escape.

“You know, Captain,” the voice of her not-yet-wife but more than friend-with-benefits Risha Drayen said, breaking her from her thoughts. “If this was anyone else, I’d say they’d be suicidal to try and steal from Zakuul.”

“But this is me we’re talking about, so you know we’ll pull it off,” Tradrissia said, a smile on her face as she leaned her head back to stare at Risha.

Risha smirked. “You’re right … but I’d still call you suicidal.” The human woman sat next to Tradrissia and they watched as Gault played against Lana and Theron in a card game. “I am surprised, though, that you’d do this job for free.”

“Woah woah woah! I never said I was going to do it for free!” Tradrissia dramatically placed a hand over her heart, “I am hurt you’d think that of me.”

Risha playfully swatted the Twi’lek woman’s shoulder, “You and I both know that you have a heart of gold. Any credits that we get from the Gilded Star is going right to the Alliance.”

Tradrissia was silent has the Alliance Commander - a very unique half-Chiss half-Zabrak woman - walked over to the card game. “You’re not completely wrong, love.” Tradrissia mumbled more to herself than to the other woman.

“Which reminds me, Captain,” Risha said, drawing Tradrissia’s attention, “Why did you decide to join and help the Alliance? We could still do our own thing with or without the Alliance’s help.”

Tradrissia was silent again as she gazed at the Alliance Commander, a meeting years ago playing in her mind. She could almost see the Chiss woman she had met, inquiring about her missing sister and to contact her if Tradrissia’s fleet found anything. “Let’s just call it a favor,” Tradrissia said, getting up and walking over to everyone else … they had a heist to pull off.


	23. Stars (Destiny 2)

Astra gazed out at the endless expanse of stars which dominated the sky of the Queen’s Court. She should be happy that she was standing here, in the most private sanctum of Queen Mara Sov. She should be overjoyed that her queen was alive and reclining on the throne. She should be feeling something yet there was still nothing but a void. Astra couldn’t find it within herself to feel joy, even as the Queen’s presence filled her mind. She had spent so long searching for her Queen, she should be feeling some form of relief or happiness.

Still, if Queen Mara had been alive all this time … why had she not reached out to them? Why had she remained here? Did she not trust them? Had they disappointed her? Or maybe she had been too weak to make her presence known? Still, why reveal herself now? Was it merely because of the fact that they had killed Riven and the Dreaming City was safe for the time being? Or was there something else? A greater threat looming in the distance waiting to reveal itself?

Yet did it really matter what the Queen’s reasoning was? Astra had to believe there was a reason for everything that Queen Mara did, and she had to believe that her Queen would trust her enough to reveal everything. Astra had to have faith … she just had to.

“You are still troubled, Astra Stathos,” her Queen’s voice broke her from her thoughts, yet the Awoken Guardian did not turn her gaze away from the expanse of stars.

Astra didn’t trust her voice, nor did she know what to say, so she remained quiet. “You claim that this is going to happen again and again and again.” Astra’s Ghost spoke up, apparently not content to remain silent. “Why don’t you fight with us?”

Queen Mara chuckled lightly, “It still does not understand.” Out of the corner of her eye, Astra saw the Awoken Queen stand next to her. “I do fight with you, Petra Venj is my Wrath and you, Astra Stathos, are my Blade.”

Astra turned and bowed deeply, “As always, I am loyal only to you and all I have ever wanted was to serve.”

Queen Mara held out her hands and a bow materialized, “I grant you this, in reward for your continued and unwavering loyalty.” Astra took the bow, and waited for her Queen to continue. “If you find yourself wavering again, Blade of the Queen’s Guard, look to the stars and know that I am with you.”

With that, Queen Mara turned fully to gaze out at the expanse before them. Astra inclined her head and turned to leave, taking the dismissal for what it was. She holstered her new bow even as she stepped through the portal back to the Dreaming City. Petra was waiting for her, her arms crossed and looking out over the cleansed - for now - city. Astra joined her, crossing her arms over her chest. Deep down she wasn’t really sure of what to make of her encounter with Queen Mara.


	24. Hug (Code Vein)

Alvira wasn’t entirely sure what to make of the memory that she had just re-lived. And she had certainly re-lived it, it had been too real to have been anything else. It certainly wasn’t like when she had experienced the memories of the other revenants. Those had been like she was merely listening to the events, the memory frozen in time. Then again, she had not encountered a vestige which contained her own memory, perhaps it would always be different if it was her own memory? Alvira frowned and placed a hand over her heart, if it was going to feel so real all the time, she wasn’t really sure she wanted any of her other memories.

And even if she did want her memories back, she had no clue where to even begin. It was clear within the memory that she had forgotten everything about herself by that time. Alvira suspected that if there were other vestiges which contained her own memories, they were either too far away or gone long to dust by now. Oddly enough, Alvira was fine with not knowing anything else about herself. The massive hole within her memory allowed her to take risks that other revenants couldn’t. It allowed her to die over and over and over again and not worry about losing a piece of herself.

Of course, her companions would say that she shouldn’t be taking such risks herself anyway. But she had to protect them, she couldn’t bear the thought of Louis or Mia or Yakumo or even Io losing a memory because they took a risk. She had to protect them … she had to save them … she had to save them all.

Her left eye throbbed with pain and she covered the side of her face with a gasp. She did not know where this desire to protect everyone came from. It called out to her from the deepest depths of her mind in a voice so familiar. Yet she could never identify who the voice belonged to. It was like trying to remember a dream, always just out of reach. She grit her teeth and her free hand clenched into a fist, she should know who the voice belonged to. It was there, the name was  _ right there _ and all she had to do was concentrate a little more …

Pain exploded behind her eye and she screamed. Whether it was because of the pain or because of her frustration Alvira didn’t know. Anger swirled within her, whether at the pain or her inability to remember anything was unclear. It didn’t really matter, the anger threatened to consume her like a Frenzy.

Arms wrapped around her shoulders and she was pulled into someone’s chest. Immediately the pain and anger vanished and Alvira sagged into the person holding her. Normally Alvira would have pushed the person away, yet there was only one person who would ever touch her without asking.

“Allow me to bear some of your burden,” Io’s soft voice floated through the room.

“I should be the one protecting  _ you _ ,” Alvira mumbles, her voice trembling.

“It is my duty to stand beside you,” Io responds.

“I don’t wish to burden you with my troubles,” Alvira whispers, not trusting herself to cry. She could feel it, even now, at the corners of her eyes.

“If there’s anything I can do to make your journey more bearable, I gladly accept any burden.” Io’s voice is so full of conviction, “Please, allow me to protect you.”

Alvira couldn’t say what within her snapped, yet the emotions surged through her. She clung to Io tighter, burying her face in the other revenant’s neck. For the first time in what could have been eternity … Alvira cried. Her body racked with sobs even as Io tightened her hold around her, drawing her into a deeper hug. The pain and fear evaporating into the calming air around her. For the first time since it happened, she knew she could breathe in peace.


	25. Search (Star Wars: The Old Republic)

It had been months - years, really - and still no news of her sister. She was beginning to wonder if her sister’s body was lying somewhere just waiting to be picked up...or worse… She had used up the little she agreed to spend on this ordeal and was about to call everyone off. After all, if it had taken this long with no news, what would another two weeks bring if not the same problem? If her sister was stupid enough to get killed in the line of fire, then so be it. At least she looked. 

Kho’reoxia sighed. If she didn’t care, why did she feel anxious? Why did she check the damn pad every time it beeped? Why was she so on edge, unable to eat or sleep until she received a confirmation? It wasn’t like she really cared if she found her sister … right? She had only told herself that she would use a small portion of the Star Cabal’s resources just to clear her conscious. It wasn’t like she was going to confront her sister if she had found her - if she was still alive.

Then again, if she didn’t care about the fate of her sister, why had she spent all these years searching for her? Kho’reoxia sighed to herself, was it truly time to put the past behind her? She may never forgive her Sith mother for constantly comparing them … but could she really hold that against her sister? Was that really fair? After all, they were family and could she truly stay angry at her sister for what their mother had done? She was all the family that Kho’reoxia had left. If she didn’t find Draleeria, how was she going to ever make her mothers proud, even in death? It was time for a change, for her to truly put it all behind her. Family was family, no matter what. And if it turned out Draleeria hadn’t survived, at least she could give her sister the burial she deserved. 

Why else was she still—everything in her command center went wild. Images started to appear on her screen, locations started popping up, and then several calls came in all at once. Sightings of her sister were being reported from everywhere all at once, but where was she really and was she really alive? Scrolling through everything, she ignored the holo-calls, and came to the conclusion that her sister couldn’t possibly be everywhere at once. What on earth were her people really good for?

None of the information made sense: as she looked closer, she realized all of the dates on the locations were old. What on earth were they sending her? 

Just then, another screen popped up: a list of names.  _ What the…  _ She scrolled carefully through the names and a smile crept across her lips before she could stop it from blooming. “Of course!” she whispered to the technology around her. “You sneaky little rat!”

Her hopes died quickly, though, when she saw when the last alias was used: nearly three years ago. Cross-referencing the aliases with the dates of the locations, the fire within her died out again. The last known location was also five years ago, but  _ after _ Korriban had been attacked. It was a simple message, short and unimportant save for the sender: Sharishia. Leave it to her sister to use a combination of their parents’ names as a trail for Kho’reoxia to find her. How could she have been so sure her sister would’ve looked for her?

_ Maybe she saw something in me, I never could… _

She couldn’t give up on her sister. Not when she had gotten this far. Calling into the holopad, she instructed everyone to keep looking. If she survived the attack on Korriban, there was a chance she could be alive now. Draleeria would stop at nothing to stay alive and get through the worst. Kho knew her better than that. If she went static, there had to be good a reason…right? She wasn’t stupid enough to get herself caught, not if she didn’t get herself caught the first time.

Everything went wild again. Screen on top of screen opened, one holopad after the other. She sorted through everything as carefully as she possibly could, but still nothing. When was it going to end? She needed a solid lead not wild rumors! It had been hours since the holopads started going off. It had taken her just as long to go through the first batch. How much longer was she going to sit around for—hopefully—a second batch?

She stood up from her chair then and turned around. Just as she was going to head out, her messages began to go off. She quickly glanced through some of the messages that had come through, discarding several of them. Then she saw one that immediately caught her attention: it had been sent from the Voidwolf and the message only contained two words -  _ found her _ .


	26. Light (Star Wars: The Old Republic)

It was such a rare thing, meeting someone of like minds. More so, when they did not conform to the standard Imperial beliefs. Xariah sat within the Nexus Cantina, waiting for her contact to show up. It was a massive risk, being here, especially since she had asked for more information about the Sith. She wasn’t sure why, but she had been interested in learning about their ways, so one of the women at Headquarters told her she’d set her up with someone who could tell her everything and anything she wanted to know. So here she was, waiting for someone to show up...only she wasn’t sure exactly who she was looking for. All she was told was that she had to sit at this very spot and her contact would meet her no later and no earlier than the appointed time. It was quite possible the Sith was already there, sizing her up, and she had no idea. For all she knew, the person serving her could be her very contact. 

"Well, isn't this a surprise." A familiar voice drew her attention. She glanced up and was met with the sight of a familiar Cathar woman. Though this time, her implants were able to supply her with a name: Koliarria, apprentice of Lord Varilia.

"You're the one I'm supposed to be meeting here?" Xariah inquired as the Cathar woman sat across from her.

“I was thinking the same thing,” Koliarria stated, a smile across her face. “It’s a small planet after all.”

"Then you know why I've asked to meet." Xariah said.

"Yes, but I have a question for you, first." The Cathar woman paused, taking a sip of her drink. "What's your view on the cruelty of the Empire?"

Xariah had to think for a moment. Her knowledge of the Sith's cruelty weighing heavy on her mind. It was also not to be taken lightly, given the fact that Koliarria was the apprentice of Lord Varillia who was known for her ruthlessness. How was she supposed to answer? 

In her opinion, the cruelty of the Empire was far greater than she ever thought possible. The Empire's servants were ruthless; they didn't care who was innocent and who was guilty, they killed mercilessly. Xariah wanted to serve a less cruel Empire, one who asked questions first instead of murdering on contact regardless of crime.

Should she lie? Should she give the answer that the Sith would want? It wouldn't be the first time that she would lie - she was, after all, an Imperial Agent - and it certainly wouldn't be the last. The lie was on her lips, yet something kept her from saying it. There was something about the Cathar woman … something different. Xariah may have had only one interaction with the other woman, but the Cathar was not like other Sith. Was it possible that Xariah could speak the truth? Could she take that risk? Something told her that she could.

"Honestly, I find the mindless cruelty a bit too much. I understand that actions must be taken against those who oppose and resist the Empire...but to murder children who know no better and to murder those who refuse to choose any side and just want to live in peace? There is a limit to everything."

The Cathar woman smirked, flashing her fangs and for a split second, Xariah felt like she had walked into a trap. Then Koliarria chuckled and took another sip of her drink. "What if I told you there were others who felt the same way … even within the ranks of the Sith."

Xariah raised an eyebrow, trying not to show her surprise. Maybe there was a way to change the Empire into what it should be … something that she would be proud to serve. "I'd say I'd want to know more."

Koliarria leaned forward and motioned Xariah to do the same, "Then let me tell you about the Order of Revan."


	27. Dark (Dragon Age: Inquisition)

Ellana’s world came crashing down in a single moment. The scrolls were laid out before her in plain Elvish scrawl; this was the truth and there was no going back from it. Shoving the scrolls aside, she screamed in agony as they crashed to the floor. She would burn them all if she knew it could change a thing about the past, but it would all be in vain. She could hide from the truth no longer. 

More than anything, she was blaming herself. She just couldn’t leave well enough alone. No. She had to track Solas to see where he was going and why. Why had she done it? What was she hoping she would find? Not this, she supposed. Never in her lifetime did she think of a betrayal such as this. She had thought her world would never have shattered again. That when Solas had broke their relationship off it was the worst he could have ever done… but she had been wrong. Her world  _ had _ shattered again.

Solas was Fen'Harel … the ancient Elvhenan God who supposedly tricked the other gods and locked them away. But that wasn't completely true either … was it? Elgar'nan, Mythal, Falon'Din, Dirthamen, Andruil, Sylaise, June, Ghilan'nain, and even Fen'Harel.

They were no gods … just powerful mages who deceived people who blindly believed in them. How could they live with themselves? With such lies that ruined the lives of so many people? How could they even pretend to be the very gods that could smite them and ruin them for all they were? Her blood was boiling in her veins, anger popping and crackling within her. How could she have been so blinded! Why did she let herself fall in love with him! Why did she believe the lies he crammed into her mouth!

She was on her knees now, her tears choking her. She was defeated. All will to fight ripped from her, yet every part of her screaming for her to stand and get revenge for the wrong Solas did...for the wrong they  _ all _ did. Someone would have to pay and that someone  _ needed _ to be Solas. He had every opportunity to tell her the truth. To confide in her. To let her see the darkest sides of him. Maybe she would have forgiven him. But this was torturous. This was unforgivable.

She knew she had to stop him. She knew she should stop Solas' plan to recreate the ancient Elvhen empire. She knew if he succeeded it would destroy the world as they knew it … maybe even killing everyone. Yet could she really blame him? Knowing what she knew, the Dalish had fallen so far and had forgotten so much of their own culture … culture stolen from them by the humans. It was easy to think that the world deserved it. That they all deserved whatever happened to them.

But was it in her to destroy others? Was it her job to destroy them? Would she be able to do it alone? There would be an uproar, an uprising, an entire war if anyone else found out. More people would get hurt. Many would die. Could she sacrifice all of that, for something such as this? Was it better to leave things as they were and to never talk of him again?

Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts all mashed together trying to find a way out of the darkness he created within her. She, too, was so far gone now. What was left to believe in when the one thing she hoped she could count on had walked out and left her bleeding within, left her drowning in the sins of his people that he kept from her. But maybe it was better this way. It was better that he walked out. Maybe shame would claim him and he’d atone for his sins in the deepest pits of hell, assuming of course that he cared for anything at all.

Standing up, she dusted herself off and balled her hands into fists. She was unsure about everything else, but deep down - in the darkest depths of her heart - she knew she still loved Solas. And she knew that she had to find him. What she would do once she found him … well, she'd just have to cross that bridge when she got there.


	28. Dream (Star Wars: The Old Republic)

Draleeria thought she might have been dreaming, it would certainly explain how she was standing on an asteroid without a mask covering her face. However, it felt too real to be a simple dream. So then was it a force vision? But that didn’t feel right either. Most Force Visions were either vague and unclear or hinted at a future event. Whatever she was experiencing, it was clear as day and it didn’t feel like the Force was warning her about the future. So then what was happening?

The last thing she remembered was being brought before Valkorian, the Immortal Emperor of Zakuul. Yet she and Darth Marr had sensed the truth about Valkorian: he was the Sith Emperor they had chased across systems to end. Valkorian offered a simple choice: kneel or die. Marr had chosen fight, managing to kill several Knights before being struck by Valkorian’s power. Even Draleeria could sense how great it was, could sense the depths of the Emperor’s power. She was no fool, she knew she would never be able to stand against him … so she knelt. She accepted Valkorion’s deal of combining their power to conquer and reshape the galaxy as they saw fit. Then Valkorion had been struck down, stabbed in the back and the resulting explosion of Force energy knocked her unconscious. So then was this really a dream?

She glanced up into the stars, starships were frozen in the middle of a battle. There were Republic and Imperial starships being destroyed by those that she had learned were from Zakuul. “I have always loved the stars,” a familiar voice said beside her.

Draleeria’s head whipped around to come face-to-face with Valkorion, “I take it our deal is still on, then?” If her mother hadn’t bound Force Specters, Draleeria would have been surprised to see the man that she had seen killed.

Valkorion chuckled, “There will be time for all that I have promised. For now, I have brought you here so that we may speak undisturbed.” So then this was some sort of dreamscape that he created? Then what was happening to her body? Before she could ask, he turned away, gazing out across the dreamscape. Draleeria followed him, and there in the distance she could see a familiar ship. “Your mother’s acolytes, they have served their purpose yet you allow them to live.”

Draleeria may have called out to them … if she had believed this was anything more than a vision and if she still hadn’t been angry at them for taking her away when Korriban had been attacked. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to abandon them, they had been there her entire life. “They served faithfully for years and will continue to do so.” Draleeria stated.

Valkorion seemed to frown at her response and the dreamscape around them flashed bright white. When Draleeria could see again, they were on Korriban before the great entrance of the Sith Academy. “Without a center to hold them together, they will drift apart,” Valkorian said, looking down. When Draleeria followed his gaze she found the bodies of her mothers, collapsing to her knees before them. “The galaxy will tear itself apart without us holding it together.” Valkorion continued.

Images of battles happening across the galaxy flashed before her eyes, blinding pain erupting throughout her body. It seared through her body like liquid fire, boiling her blood within her veins and setting her nerves ablaze. She screamed in agony even as she gritted out, “What’s happening to me?”

Valkorion continued to gaze down at her, “Your body has been frozen in carbonite, yet it was imperfect and you are dying.”

“Then help me!” Draleeria ground out. Even calling upon all that she had learned, all that her mother had taught her … was doing nothing.

Valkorion just stood there, “You still cling to the old ways, and they can not help you. Until you accept that you are destined to be something more, that you are meant to be more than Sith and Jedi. You must let go of everything that is holding you back … only then will you be able to harness my power.”

“...ake up …” A voice called out through the pain, yet it was so distant. Draleeria tried to focus on it, tried to force the pain away from her mind. “... ake up … ave to …” She heard the same voice again, and she knew she should know who it belonged to. Draleeria grit her teeth, unable to do anything else through the immense pain which coursed through her veins.

“We are being reborn.” Valkorion stated simply.

Draleeria had no time to wonder what he meant as the dreamscape around them faded. Her vision turned white and she heard a voice call out, “Wake up, we have to go!”


	29. Accuse (Star Wars: The Old Republic)

“YOU LEFT ME!” Sharilia screamed, lightning arcing off her body.

“No, that’s not what happened!” Jehilia hollowered back over the pouring rain.

They were on the planet Makeb, drawn to this forest as if the Force itself had wanted them to encounter each other. It must have been the Will of the Force, for how else could they have stumbled into each other. Surely it wasn’t just the fact that both the Empire and the Republic were fighting over the planet’s resources and there was a chance that they could have run into each other regardless. Still, it seemed too good to be mere chance, that the both of them just happened to be in the same area at the same time for it to be anything else except the Force.

Briefly - even as she ducked behind a tree to avoid lightning - Jehilia wondered how many other times she and Sharilia had been close to encountering each other over the years. How many worlds had they been on at the same time, fighting for their respective side, yet always just missing each other.

“Please listen to me, Shar!” Jehilia begged, even as the Force blared a warning. She cloaked herself her in the Force, fading from view and rolling out of her cover. Seconds later it exploded in a shower of splinters as Force enhanced lightning slammed into it.

“Don’t call me that!” her sister screamed back, lightning continuously arcing off her body and into the ground. “Sharilia is dead! She died when you abandoned her to slavers!” Lightning gathered in the palms of her hands, “There is only Darth Nox, member of the Dark Council and head of the Pyramid of Ancient Knowledge!” Her sister turned and unleashed the lightning in her hands.

It was only thanks to the Force that Jehilia was able to deflect the attack, redirecting it at a tree behind her. Jehilia allowed her Force cloak to drop, no sense in hiding from view when the Sith woman could sense her through the Force. “My sister is not dead,” Jehilia said, raising her hands before her, “Please, listen to me. I don’t wish to fight you.”

Sharilia bared her teeth in a snarl, drawing and igniting her lightsaber, “That makes one of us.” Sharilia stalked forward, bringing her lightsaber to bear and forcing Jehilia to defend herself.

Jehilia’s double-bladed lightsaber snapped into her hands, its yellow blade catching her sister’s red blade. Her sister fought with all the ferocity of other Sith, all anger and rage and hate. It poured off the younger woman in waves that was easy for Jehilia to sense. Yet her sister’s fighting style was also unique in that she incorporated her lightning, it surged through her lightsaber and blasted from her fingertips. Jehilia never had any desire to fight her sister, so she merely defended against the attacks. It was all that she could do … all that she was willing to do.

A blast of Force energy sent her lightsaber flying, and in that moment Sharilia brought her lightsaber around. Jehilia was barely able to pull up a barrier, the Sith’s lightsaber slamming against it. The Force blared another warning, yet Jehilia could not defend against the lightning which struck her. Jehilia was blasted back into a tree, collapsing to the ground. She stared up as her sister drew closer, gazing deep into the hate filled eyes. The Sith woman raised her arm, and Jehilia could feel the massive amount of power being poured into the lightning which arced between the other woman’s fingers.

“I am so sorry, Shar, for everything that has happened to you. If my death will make up for the years I was not there for you, then I gladly accept it,” Jehilia said, bowing her head and waited.

Jehilia heard the other woman scream … felt lightning sizzle past her head … heard it explode against a tree somewhere behind her. Jehilia looked upon her sister, the Sith’s lightsaber tumbled from her finger even as she collapsed to her knees. “Why weren’t you there for me?” Sharilia’s voice was so low, Jehilia wasn’t sure she had heard it.

“This is what happened …” and so, Jehilia spoke. She spoke of the Republic trooper who threw her into the rescue shuttle. She spoke of her time with Jedi Knight Satale Shan. She spoke of the years she had spent searching for her lost sister. She spoke of the years it had taken her to accept that she may never find her sister. She spoke of the years she had grieved as she accepted the fact her sister may be dead. And throughout it all, Sharilia merely listened, not saying a word. “I hope you can forgive me, Shar. I should never have given up looking for you.”

Sharilia merely retrieved her lightsaber and returned to her feet, her gaze fixed upon the ground. The younger woman turned on her heel and strode away, walking past a Chiss woman. Jehilia bowed her head, and closed her eyes, tears mixing with the rain which continued to fall. She was vaguely aware of Sillania when she knelt next to her, asking her what happened. All Jehilia could think and say was, “I failed her again.”


	30. Challenge (Game of Thrones)

Aryana stared deep into the roaring fire lapping against the mound of logs in the fireplace. The crackling flames dancing in her eyes was soothing to her ears, lulling her to sleep. But sleep wasn’t what she wanted. Sleep suffocated her, drove her into a place too deep inside of her, she wasn’t sure she was ever going to be able to climb out of it. One morning, she swore, she wasn’t going to wake up as a result of the demons strangling her in her sleep.

When it first happened, she thought she would be terrified of fire. She thought the choking smell and harrowing flames would make her run in fear. She was wrong. Instead, the flames comforted her, reminding her of the warmth and coziness of her home in Dorne, where she spent the whole of her life. These flames were her home away from home as she sought shelter in Jorlyn’s keep, one hundred leagues away from Winterfell. It wasn’t the safest place in the world given the Lannisters’ hatred of the Starks, but it was certainly safer than Dorne was. The Hardyngs were close allies of the Starks and Jorlyn met with the Queen on many occasions. So long as they remained on friendly terms, there was nothing for her to fear here.

Yet, there  _ were _ fears that plagued her. Whenever she closed her eyes, she could hear her mother’s screams as they were dragged apart, as her mother was repeatedly stabbed to death. She could see her people running frantically, their screams ringing loud in her ears to the point she feared she’d go deaf. She could hear the bell ringing—clang! clang! clang! clang!—as it warned her people of the incoming dangers. She could hear the women and children shuffling into the dungeons, getting below ground to stay safe from the danger, the children screaming and crying as their parents dragged them along. What had become of those who couldn’t be rescued? Whose bodies they couldn’t load? Would they haunt the grounds of Yronwood for eternity? Would Valar’s beasts chew on their remains? Would they just toss them aside and let them rot away, to be eaten by nature?

She could barely stand the thought of the latter. It was the fear that plagued her the most. The thought of her people, the ones who had pledged their lives to her and her cause, lying out in the court yards, or staked to the ground as reminders of what Valar could do if their commands were not heeded. She could picture the faces clearly being eaten away by bacteria and gizzards. 

She owed it to those strewn away bodies to fight and take back Yronwood, but she no longer had what it took to do so. Maybe it was time to get over Yronwood and march on to something bigger and better. Something that would put Valar in their place. 

She didn’t realize she was pacing the floor until she bumped right into Jorlyn, their bodies crashing together like lightning into a tree. “I’m sorry,” they apologized simultaneously. 

Aryana smiled and shook her head. “Let’s forget Yronwood…” she pleaded.

“Not this again!” Jorlyn yelled. “I thought you were over your stupid little pride. Your people—”

Aryana put a hand over the Northern woman’s mouth. “Will you shut up and let me finish!...Maybe it’s time we think about something bigger and better then Yronwood. Something that will give us more power and higher ground.”

“What? Are you suggesting we take Sandspear?” Jorlyn inquired with a chuckle.

Aryana gazed into the Northern woman’s eyes, her own stare as hard as steel. Jorlyn may have been half joking, but Aryana was deadly serious and she wanted the other woman to know. Aryana watched as Jorlyn’s brows knitted together as the other woman realized just how serious she was. “That is exactly what I’m suggesting.” Aryana replied.

Jorlyn frowned in response, “We don’t have the troops needed for a battle that size.”

Aryana clenched the Northern woman’s collar, “You were the one looking into plans to sneak into Yornwood. We can do the same thing here. We get in, kill their leaders, and take over.”

Jorlyn gazed deep into her eyes, and Aryana felt like the other woman was searching for something. Apparently the Northern woman couldn’t find anything and asked, “Where is this coming from, Aryana?”

Aryana turned away from Jorlyn and gazed into the fire once more. She took several moments to collect her thoughts, “I need to do this, Jorlyn.” Her voice was barely a whisper, yet it seemed to echo throughout the empty room. She wrapped her arms around her waist and hugged herself tightly, “If I ever hope to put the past behind me … I …” Aryana felt her voice break and the tears fall from her eyes. “Please, Jorlyn, help me.” Aryana begged.

Aryana felt the Northern woman wrap her arms around her and pulled her tightly against her. “I promise, Aryana,” the Northern woman whispered in her ear, “We’ll face this challenge together.”


	31. Reunion (Star Wars: The Old Republic)

They were once again on Nathema, chasing down a threat to her Eternal Alliance. They called themselves the Order of Zildrog, its members comprised entirely of people who wished to end her and her Alliance: people she crossed in the past and some her mothers had defeated. In the end, it didn’t matter to Draleeria if the Knights of Zakuul were unhappy with her claim to the Eternal Throne, or whether the Sith Lords were angry at the fact she didn’t annihilate the Republic, or if Republic agents couldn’t bear the thought of a Sith in charge of the strongest fleet in the galaxy. They all stood against her and everything that she had built … and she would be damned before she lost everything again.

So here they were, face-to-face with the leaders of the Order of Zildrog: Vinn Atrius and GEMINI 16. What could only be Zildrog towered behind them, an amalgamation of technology and Sith Alchemy, its massive holographic head snarling at all present. If only they had been faster, then they might not be stuck in this forcefield. Draleeria hammered the shield with her lightning, yet it held strong.

“Organics fight so hard for their survival, yet you’re too late,” the GEMINI droid said. “The thrones have been filled, and Zildrog has awakened.” Around the room, Draleeria could see pods which contained the other members which had stood against her.

“LET ME FEED!” Zildrog bellowed.

GEMINI 16 turned to face the massive holographic face, “Execute formation 29-” the droid never finished what it was about to say as a vibroblade pierced its neck. The lifeless droid crumbling to the ground in a heap of sparks.

“That’s enough of that,” a voice said as they deactivated a stealth generator.

“Kho?” Draleeria said, not believing her eyes. How had her sister found out about what was going on? And, more importantly, how had she known to come to Nathema?

“NO!” Zildrog raged, “LET ME FEED!”

“Lend me your power, Zildrog!” Atrius yelled, “And I will let you feed as much as you want!”

“Looks like the reunion is going to have to wait, dear sister,” Kho’reoxia stated as she deactivated the forcefield as Atrius was infused with Zildrog’s power. “It seems we have a bigger issue to deal with first.”

Draleeria merely nodded and drew her polesaber, slipping into the stance she had learned from Senya. Kho’reoxia slipped into position next to her, their backs facing each other, and Draleeria was immediately reminded of the training sessions their mothers had them practice together. Atrius attacked first, jumping at them with his lightsaber raised high. Draleeria blocked the attack, Kho’reoxia taking advantage and stabbing with her vibroknife. Whatever power the former Knight of Zakuul had been imbued with prevented the vibroknife from doing any real damage. Draleeria pushed Atrius back, channeling her lightning into her polesaber as she pressed the attack.

Despite the new two-handed fighting style that Draleeria had learned, she could feel Kho’reoxia slightly adjust her own fighting style to match. Draleeria was only slightly surprised how easy it was to fight alongside her sister again. How easy it was for both of them to slip into remembered tactics. How easy it was to take advantage of openings the other created. It felt surprisingly nice to fight back-to-back with Kho’reoxia, as if all those years apart and resenting each other had never happened. Even as strong as Atrius had become with Zildrog’s power, he was no match for them and the former Knight of Zakuul lay dead at their feet. That left only one thing to do … 

“NO! I SHALL FEED!” Zildrog raged.

Kho’reoxia sprinted over to the command console, typing furiously. “We need to shut him down, but he’s over-riding the commands.” The Chiss woman swore under her breath. “He’s gathered too much power.”

“Then we destroy him,” Draleeria said, readying her polesaber to destroy the console.

“DESTROY ME AND YOU STILL LOSE EVERYTHING!” Zildrog warned.

Kho’reoxia frowned as she quickly glanced through several different files, “He’s right. I don’t know how, but it's tied to the Eternal Throne and to the Gravestone. You destroy him, and you’ll likely still lose everything.”

Draleeria frowned, gazing up at Zildrog, his power rolling off him in waves. If they couldn’t risk destroying him, then they had to force him back into a dormant state. Perhaps if she … “What if I siphoned his power?” Draleeria suggested. “Would that be enough to weaken him in order to force him dormant again?”

Her sister turned to her, and Draleeria wondered if that was worry reflected in the other woman’s eyes, “That’s a lot of power, ‘Ria. Are you sure you can handle it?”

Draleeria didn’t reply, merely turning to face the massive structure that was Zildrog. She reached out through the Force, feeling the immense power which powered through the machine. She touched its power with her own, drew it towards herself, and absorbed the power. Kho’reoxia hadn’t exaggerated just how much power Zildrog had. Yet Draleeria had housed Valkorion’s spirit and his near infinite power … what was this, compared to that?

“NO!” Zildrog raged, even as its holographic head flickered in and out.

It started to fight her as much as it could, and Draleeria called upon all her power. In the end, it was still only a machine and the last of its power left it. The power she had absorbed visibly swirled around her in a maelstrom, and she grit her teeth, trying to control it. Had she miscalculated? Was Zildrog’s power too much for her to absorb? Whatever the reason, she had to do something before it tore her apart. Draleeria screamed, the power exploding out of her, she fell to her knees completely drained.

“Sister!” Kho’reoxia yelled, rushing to Draleeria’s side even as she all but collapsed into her sister’s arms. “You had me worried for a second.”

“Thank you for coming here, Kho.” Draleeria mumbled, struggling to keep her eyes open.

The other woman chuckled slightly, “Of course, ‘Ria, we’re family.”

“You’re … welcome … to stay in the alliance,” Draleeria said, feeling the last of her strength fade.

The Sith woman felt Kho’reoxia tighten her hold around her, “Rest now, sister, I’m not going anywhere.” With that, Draleeria slipped into unconsciousness in her sister’s arms.


End file.
